Perfect World
by Not Espeon
Summary: Story resumed. Updates every one or two weeks. "Life ends with Death. Death leads to Life. The endless cycle is a mere archetype. Now, when fates are crossed, completely unrelated events become relevant to each other, and fate rewrites itself. Reborn/TF"
1. Never Say Never

The Prologue and chapters **one** to **five** have been edited for the purpose of new readers only. If you are a returning reader, I would suggest jumping to the newest chapter.

As some of you may have already known, I rushed when writing these first few chapters; I completed two or three of them per day. Due to complaints from readers, I decided to revise the chapters for the sake of new readers. If you are a **returning** reader, there will be little value in reading these again; I have not changed the plot.

However, I will **not** be revising these chapters again. **If you encounter a typo that you would like to be fixed, send me a PM with the specific sentence and the chapter's number/name so that I may correct the mistake for future readers.** I **do not appreciate** reviews with comments such as, "This chapter had a lot of typos in it." Such information is absolutely useless to me; these types of "reviews" don't identify my mistakes, nor do they help improve the story. If you dislike my writing to such extremes, I would suggest that you cease reading and spend your time more efficiently (i.e. reviewing other stories written by authors who actually appreciate such remarks).

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Pokemon. However, my characters are of my own creation, so please do not use them without my permission. Moreover, I will give credit to any other member whose original character idea has been offered for use in this story.**

* * *

**Prologue: Never Say Never**

Emergent potential amidst a dilute throng of experience… The image just didn't seem to fit, considering the circumstances. Progressively, most of the scientists left, leaving the young man and a few others to finish cleaning up, taking notes, and resetting the apparatus. The runt lamented it all as he extracted his work for future adjustments.

Of course they were all trained with evacuation procedures and such for the case of an emergency. It all seemed so pointless to the one, as it did for the whole. The evacuation drills were as overrated as the earthquake drills back at the academy; they weren't pragmatic anyways. Preparation no longer applies when chaos reigns and order dissolves… and nothing ever went wrong. Ever. Never.

Never say never.

The siren was bloody loud, roaring throughout the entire lab. He leapt up and knocked the machine to the ground. The word that his lips formed was drowned by the crimson emergency lights, which were also consuming the five-lettered disaster on the monitor.

As if that even made things worse anyways.

The tempest of confusion began commencing a pathetic little light show. He called for help, but everyone else was disillusioned. His curses were engulfed by the haze of recorded protocols. He fell back as the side panel bulged and smoke began to rise. Gathering what remained, he began keying away, trying to recover the data; it began to automatically reboot instead. The bewildered researchers exclaimed their mumbles, furious with the uproar. They all agreed that this never happened Never say never.

Abruptly, the lights appeared to dims significantly and also change source; the emergency lights were on, meaning that the lab's private generator was covering for the loss in mainstream power. That particular machine didn't stop; it wouldn't, it shouldn't, and it will not.

It pierced the air; correspondingly, cries were made, as if people couldn't already tell what had just happened. However, he didn't turn until the main door was blown several metres across the room, smashing a man into a work desk. His soul had already absconded from the gory vessel. He had found favour; he had been spared.

Some remained petrified. The others dashed to the body, desperately trying to save what belonged to he who was waving, not drowning.

Ironic.

I don't know what I should've felt at the time. I don't actually remember… I guess stuff like that happens. I mean, who would want to remember it? I guess that I'm a coward who can't just confront the son, the father of the man. That's all that I can do: guess and check and despair.

I liked all of these people around me to some degree. People...

The regret, the far, the perplexity… It was all there, but not really. After all… Well, it's too late anyways.

I guess that I unloaded the data chip just before the group of pitch-black figured flooded the room with weaponry that appeared to originate from a level, a bar in the future that humanity may never desire to achieve. Nobody moved; at least one barrel was aimed at each of our heads. I couldn't see a face. No one was breathing. I shifted my eyes, but it looked as if this was the end. I lifted my hands above my head, as did the others, but I moved my arms in such a way that some tears were wiped off of my face as well. However, I couldn't afford trying to reach behind my glasses. I was crying, yet who wouldn't?

Wouldn't.

Couldn't.

Shouldn't.

Someone new entered while all we could do was watch. It was then that I noticed that the emergency system was deactivated and everything looked as normal (excluding the dead body, the detached door, and the miniature army). He was wearing a pure white labcoat, and he kept his hands behind his back. I couldn't see his eyes because he was wearing pitch-black shades. His hair was a shade of brown, but I can't recall the exact details. My eyes were wet, and… Things were different back then… His face bore no expression, but a sadistic, deluded grin gradually emerged.

He brought his hands together, and the dim sound of a light but highly exaggerated clap resonated throughout the room. "Well done, well done," he said in a sluggish voice.

He was taunting us; he broke into the main headquarters, killed one of us, and then mocked us.

"A little Pidgey told me that you were developing the technology here..." he began. Pause. "I was waiting. Simply waiting. But I guess you finished earlier than I had originally anticipated. Perhaps this is one of the scarce locations I am glad that my hypothesis was incorrect."

He looked at me and probably noticed the panic, the anxiety smeared over my body. I knew what he was after, and thoughts formed as a cyclone in my mind. Possibilities, predictions, facts, assumptions, boundaries, restrictions, conditions, truth…

I realised that he knew about the project. He couldn't have, but it somehow happened anyways. I began to wonder if my program would still function properly enough to complete one single sequence…

And...

then...

I began to fear for what would become of me once if it all collapsed back down.

His voice rose to a frighteningly enthused pitch. "These new developments have the power to change the world! It's sooo fortunate that you completed the most troublesome part for me." He brought his hands together, and it soon thinned out, quickly absorbed into the tense air. I sucked another gasp into my chest, feeling, sensing, every single component of my body, every piece of myself and my being.

It was so evidently obvious what they would try to do, but I could only fear what it will lead to and where it would end.

We should all be dead now.

Yet we're not.

Because he knew.

I let out a pitiful whimper.

I wept in silence.

I wept not only because of my current situation, but that it was all I could do in my final moments and thus what would become chiselled into my remains.

"Shall we begin?"

begin


	2. Beginning, Middle, End

**Chapter 1: Beginning, Middle, End**

I quickly filled out the form and passed it back to the security guard, who appeared slightly surprised at my writing speed. Well, I also completed another one of these not too long ago when I entered Saffron, but then again...

Perhaps I'm just a bit unique in his eyes, not that I'm trying to brag or anything.

Despite his age, he was still a sturdy figure. His eyes held the glimmering spark of what remained from his youth. His hair was pale here and there, already losing its colour. He was a rough exterior, a tough shell. He skimmed over what I wrote before putting it through the photocopier. He signed both forms and handed the original back to me with a beam on his face. "Here you go, Missus," he said with his stark voice. I smiled back, taking the sheet of paper and slipping it into my pale brown shoulder-strap bag.

I held out my hand. Maybe I shouldn't have; he was quite taken back by it, so I guess that he hasn't seen many like me. Perhaps I am unique after all. When he saw the nervousness in my face, he swiftly grabbed my hand and gave it a stern shake. "Have a safe journey," he said; I could hear the anticipation and assurance in his voice. This feeling lingered with me as I went through the wide, grey, metal doors. I let the sun shine down on my face, the fresh air fill my lungs.

Beginning, Middle, End

My name's Chloe Badar. I'm 21 years old, and I'm beginning my journey as a professional journalist. Writing has always been a passion of mine, and I love seeing people at peak performance, doing the best that they possibly can. I wish to share wonderful experiences with others.

I was born in Celadon City, where I grew up and studied. Now that I've taken some writing courses, I am disembarking on a treacherous quest to reach Goldenrod City, where I hope to receive a job. Although I would arrive at my first destination far sooner if I took the Magnet Train in Saffron City, I would miss out on all the opportunities for me to grow and develop, both as a writer and a person. Well, I guess there are financial concerns as well... It's not like the tickets are cheap for most of us.

Previously, I never went farther than the four cities at the heart of Kanto. This will be my first real adventure, and you wouldn't believe how exhilarating this is for me. I can only describe this sensation using the clichéd "beyond words," which is rather ironic in my opinion.

Now outside in the freshness of the world, I reached into my bag and took out a Pokeball. I released my Smeargle.

This is Sketch. He's my best friend, my study partner, and my personal editor. Yes, he's literate. We've known each other as far as I can remember; I decided that it would be a good idea to teach him how to read and write, though his penmanship could use some improvement. I could say that about a lot of people though.

His glazed eyes came back into focus as he flailed around his arms and swayed his tail. I prefer not to keep him in his Pokeball. He's not some slave, a personal servant who shall obey me in all ways. He's my friend, my partner, and my equal. I'd be lost without him by my side.

He shook his head back and forth and then gave me the thumbs-up. We high-fived once before heading down to Vermilion City. It's a major port and where the ship to Olivine City will disembark. I specifically chose to wait for this particular cruise; the sailing will include an exclusive beginner's one-on-one Pokemon tournament. I'm no trainer; I don't have a license. However, this would be a great challenge for me to test out my journalism skills. I might then be able to sell the completed draft sometime after we dock.

As we walked down the rough, sandy, dusty path, I took some mental notes. I had numerous notebooks, pencils, erasers, pens, and other necessities in my bag. However, I didn't want to exhaust my resources, or my wallet, when I've barely begun; my mind would suffice for now.

One thing that I loved about this particular Route was the irregularity of the path. This wasn't a natural path; it was definitely man-made. The peculiar part is that they chose to create an S-like shape through the grass. I guess that this choice may have been made to preserve the natural habitats here, but a direct path to Vermilion would have still made the split equal. In fact, even more of the environment is lost like this. I eventually told myself that it didn't matter; this had happened so long ago, and by now new habitats would've been established.

I felt Sketch tug on my hand. I looked down, and he pointed towards a large patch of grass. This type of vegetation is generally green, although it may change into a brown colour when neglected.

Grass isn't pale purple, which I definitely saw some of in the distance. We advanced and realised that what we were seeing was what appeared to be a sleeping Pokemon. Its body was covered with short purple fur, and its ears were large and pointed at different angles by the ends. It had tufts of fur protruding from the sides of its head, along with a red jewel on its forehead.

It was an Espeon; they definitely weren't common in these parts. I thought that there might be one of those fabled Eevee colonies nearby.

Its eyes suddenly burst open, panic being an evident emotion in its dark eyes. I have no idea whether or not it was actually asleep. It appeared to fumble and fidget slightly with something hidden in its paws before it got to its feet and sprinted away as fast as it could.

"Hey, wait up!" I yelled, chasing after it. I still do not know why I chose to follow it. I could've just as easily left it alone. What would I have done if I caught up to the Pokemon? Interview it?

Anyways, everyone knows that Espeons are fast, but this one was beyond what I had originally imagined. My sprint gradually slowed down to a complete stop, and I panted in attempt of catching my breath. Sketch arrived shortly afterward. I stood there for a while, leaning over, hands on my legs. My hair was dangling down.

My pounding heart began to lighten and slow down. I took one more deep breath, and then we continued.

We didn't get too far after that.

A young boy ran up to me. He wore a white t-shirt and blue shorts, attire quite suitable for such a hot day. The wind played around with his messy brown hair as his glowing eyes radiated at Sketch.

"Hey, Missus," he said, "That's a cool Pokemon! Let's battle!"

That took me by surprise. The child looked to be around ten years of age. "A battle?" I questioned back.

"Yeah," he replied, "You know, a Pokemon battle!" He reached down to his belt and pulled out two Pokeballs. "Please! It'll be fun!"

Well, I thought about it and I analysed the situation. Sketch was my only Pokemon, and I didn't really want to put him through something like a fight. Furthermore, if he passed out, I would be alone until I reached town. However, this could be a good opportunity for me to practise note-taking in a fast-paced battle. It might also prepare us for any misfortunes throughout the rest of the journey. I looked down at Sketch and he nodded. I nodded back.

"Alright," I said to the young man, "I accept your challenge. Oh, and I don't intend on losing."

I held out my hand and he shook it. "Yay! Let's battle, Missus!"

We both walked away in opposite directions along the road. There wasn't anyone else travelling down here at the time, so it wasn't a major problem.

"Go, Sandshrew!" he yelled, throwing his first Pokeball, releasing my first opponent in a red flash.

"Let's get this started," I said as Sketch ran out onto the battlefield.

"Use Swift!" ordered the young trainer. The ground-type opened its mouth and a series of white stars flew into the air. Sketch held his arms up over his face and took the attack; this move never misses, so all attempts to flee its scope would be in vain. Just as I was about to give him an order, I heard my opponent announce his next move.

"Now," yelled the boy, his voice overflowing with excitement, "use Rollout!"

The Sandshrew curled up into a ball and started rolling at the opponent, dust from the road flying into the air. Sketch was still shaking off the last attack.

"Sketch," I yelled, "Dodge to your right!"

My partner was never that fast. He did his best to dodge, but the attack made contact with his left foot, causing him to lose balance and fall, skidding across the rough dirt. I saw the Sandshrew begin to turn around.

"Run into the grass!" I ordered. This was the only way for the attack to work.

Sketch got up and made his way into a nearby patch of grass; green fields encircled the entire path we were battling on. Our opponent was gaining on us, but my partner knew what to do; I didn't need to provide any further directions. He grabbed his tail and held it forward, his natural ink glowing green and began to glitter slightly. Just as the Sandshrew rolled into the grass, the blades locked themselves together, forming a barrier-like net, essentially trapping the ground-type.

"What just happened!" screamed the boy.

"Grass Knot," I replied, looking up from the notebook I was using to take notes. "Sketch got it from a trip to see Erika." My ink on my pen continued to flow as the Sandshrew tried to roll even faster in desperation, hoping to break the grass cage. It was only making things worse; the grass was definitely having a negative effect on his rock-like skin, resulting in clearly visible striations. The grass lifted the Pokemon higher into the air before breaking the bond of his orb-like form and then crushing his limbs. Sketch let go of his tail, which shifted back to its normal position. The Sandshrew fell back onto the ground, obviously exhausted.

The boy pulled out his Pokeball and returned his Pokemon. "You did well, Sandshrew," he said as he went for the second and final Pokeball on his belt.

"Go, Pidgeotto!" The crimson light formed a relatively large brown and white bird. I was rather surprised to see him have such a powerful Pokemon at this early of an age... then again, there have been trainers who started their journeys not too much older than himself.

The Pidgeotto flew at Sketch, flinging him deeper into the grass patch; I could no longer see his head in the tall blades. "Sketch!" I yelled.

I saw him, hand on his head, emerge from the field. However, he was almost immediately blown back down by the opponent's Whirlwind. I could literally see the power coursing through the surrounding air.

"Pidgeotto," I heard the boy yell, "Get ready for the final blow!" I watched as the bird flew higher in the air for a final dive.

"Quick!" I ordered. I didn't realise the irony of what I just said until the word had already escaped my mouth.

Sketch, swaying slightly, grabbed his tail yet again. It glowed blue this time as the move began to charge.

The light grew brighter... and then I felt it. It was almost as if time froze itself. Weird beams began to shoot from my partner's tail. The Pidgeotto looked as if it was just a picture in a painting. It wasn't moving at all.

"What's happening?" the boy asked. His voice stretched out as he said it. I looked around the area, seeing the weird distortions in the environment. It was as if my glasses had taken on a blue tint.

"Trick Room," I said slowly. It sounded as if I spoke at a normal pace. "Speed is totally reversed."

I turned to look at my partner, whose tail was glowing a very pale green, though it looked a bit bluer than in reality. There were definitely small orbs flowing into the tip, joining with the already bright light.

"Now!" I ordered. Sketch released a gigantic Solar Beam at the frozen Pidgeotto. The sky was engulfed in light.

At that moment, the blue disappeared, vision returned to normal, and the Pidgeotto began to fall from the sky. The young trainer recalled his Pokemon before contact was made with the ground.

I expected to see tears in the boy's eyes. Although I'm not exactly a trainer, I obviously know that Smeargles have the ability to learn absolutely any move from another Pokemon. I had him learn certain attacks that I felt would be most practical for travelling opponents.

The boy was beaming at me. "That was a great battle, missus!" he said, running up towards me. I advanced as well, and Sketch joined us too, though it seemed as if he was limping slightly. I slipped my notebook and pen back into my bag.

"That's a really cool Pokemon," he said, staring at Sketch, "I've never seen one before."

"Well," I replied, "Your Pokemon are pretty rare as well. Sandshrews aren't from around these parts, and it's probably going to evolve soon since it knows Rollout."

The boy looked up at me, his eyes glowing with excitement. "Really!"

I nodded. "Yeah, Sandshrews learn Rollout not too long before they become Sandslash."

"I'm going to keep training," he said, "I really love my Pokemon."

I felt my heart swell when he said that. "Yeah, I can tell."

"Really!"

"Yeah, but why don't you name your Pokemon?"

The boy looked a bit puzzled. "Name them?"

"My partner's name," I said, pointing at my editor, "is Sketch. We're best buddies." I held up my hand for a high-five, which he returned a bit weakly.

"Okay!" the boy exclaimed, but then his face filled with concern. "But... Missus, do you know how to get to Vermilion City."

"Yeah, just follow this path," I said, pointing forwards; I made sure to take note of where I was coming from and where I was going, as the route looks the same both ways.

"Thank you!" he said. As he was about to turn around to leave...

"Wait," I cut in, "Do you want me to walk you back?"

He stared at me for a while. "My mommy told me that I shouldn't hang out with strangers."

I was a bit taken back by this; I had forgotten the obvious age difference between us. I've always enjoyed the company of children. "But," I said, "We're friends now, aren't we?" I think that I might've sounded a bit hurt, because I noticed a bit of guilt in the boy's face.

"Yeah, you're right!" He grabbed my hand. "My name's Timothy, Missus! I live in Vermilion City!"

"You don't need to keep calling me Missus. We're friends now, remember? My name's Chloe. I'm from Celadon City."

"Celadon? Cool! I've always wanted to go there!"

I nodded. "Maybe you should ask your mom to take you there one day."

One day...

The rest of my day was a blur. We reached town not too long after, but I urged Timothy to return home as soon as possible. The sky was grey, and I definitely saw some dark clouds advancing. After Sketch and I checked in at the hotel, we decided to make a quick stop at the Pokemart to buy some supplies. I'm staying at a small place by the pier, as that's where I'll be boarding the ship to Olivine. On our way back, winds suddenly picked up; they were even stronger than what I saw from the Pidgeotto. It began to pour as well, and the cold rain felt like bullets on my body. My bag isn't waterproof. (I should probably fix that.) Sketch and I rushed back to our room; I never anticipated that the weather would be this bad. I checked the weather forecast at home before I left, and I was sure that we were supposed to have clear skies for at least the duration of the week.

Sketch shook himself dry, and I took off my coat and lay down on my bed. I was exhausted from today. That's when I began to notice a really annoying sound in the background. I thought that it would be relatively quiet at this time of night. The clatter grew louder, and that's when I was able to figure out what it was. The wind and rain muffled the sound, so I couldn't recognize it at first.

It was definitely a siren.


	3. Dreaming, Accepting, Dying

**Chapter 2: Dreaming, Accepting, Dying **

One does not recognise a dream until having already awoken. It is only after the rush of senses, the pull of reality, that the mind realises that something was truly amiss.

I am still waiting for the day for my joke of a life to draw to a close, to awaken to the light… yet I have the constant fear that it already has.

How does someone simply **accept** _this_?

_**Third Person: **_

The sun's rays danced upon the rolling waves, brushing against the shoreline of Vermilion Harbour. A considerable distance from the main boarding pier by the heart of the city was the central fishing dock, off towards the outskirts of town. The substantial wood-based platform branched off into several strips, and was more or less lined with a combination of recreational yachts and small commercial fishing vessels.

The sun was reaching its peak while fishermen and sailors travelled from one place to the next. There was not much interaction between them; most walked by, operating on their own hours and schedules, rarely acknowledging another's presence except for a quick dodge-by.

The blazing heat was accompanied by a refreshing ocean breeze, dancing across the open water, through the dense trees of the nearby forest, and around the bodies of young Caitlin and Richard. Both were stripped to their swimsuits, leaving some heavier garments in a pile behind them.

Caitlin's hair was a warm brown, and reached down to her shoulders. While dipping her feet in the moving water, she steadied a large egg on her lap. The sounds and noticeable movement from within the hard shell grasped her attention and kept her brown eyes glued on the Pokemon-to-be. Richard's hair was rugged, but still a moderate length. It, too, was brown, though a lighter shade. His dazed green eyes were locked on Caitlin, though he would never admit it, even if caught.

"Rick?" Caitlin turned up and locked eyes with Richard. He shifted away slightly, hoping that he was not going to blush again. He was marginally timid and thus became embarrassed without much effort, but he would never admit that either. _Does she have eyes on the side of her head or something?_ He pretended that he wasn't actually staring at her. "Yeah, what is it?"

"What are you going to do when I leave?" she inquired with a gust of drama, air of tension, and string of sincerity.

Something inside or Rick sunk as soon as she said that; perhaps it was the realisation that moments like this were soon to pass, though he did not fully recognise to what extent. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Caitlin began, gazing at the clear blue sky, "whenever I'm with you, you just stare at me, pretending that you're looking at something else. Are you going to carry around a picture of me so you don't get lonely, or are you going to find someone or something else to occupy your head?"

"I do not stare at you," he replied, slightly offended.

"Whatcha talking about?" she countered, raising her voice, "Of course you do!"

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

Rick reached towards Caitlin, planning on grabbing her egg and pushing her into the water, but in a mere flicker he instead was plummeting into the warm, salty ocean blue.

"In a daze, always staring," she taunted, "You should've seen that coming."

Rick spat out some water and shook his head. "I blinked."

"You don't blink when staring at me, you know. Or were you perhaps staring at –"

"Hey, you two," interjected a new, rougher voice. The two teens looked up and saw a huge man dressed in a worn-down fishing suit. "There aren't any lifeguards here, so I hope that the two of you can swim."

"Don't worry," Caitlin replied, "we're both pretty good."

"Yeah," added Rick, climbing back onto the dock, "neither of us will drown on you."

"Alright," responded the fisherman, who was already turning and walking away, "I'll trust you kids. I've seen you both hanging around here enough anyhow. I just don't want to report any deaths on this dear dock; jeez, we've had a perfect record so far this year."

Caitlin giggled to herself. "Yeah, what kind of idiot would drown in water this calm? You'd have to be a pretty shitty swimmer."

Rick caught his tongue. He's never agreed with everything that Caitlin said, he's never approved of her behaviour all of the time, but he wouldn't see her for a while. She saved money for months to buy a ticket to Johto. Since the ship was going to dock at Olivine City, she would not be able to pick-up her starter. Instead, she bought an egg from a local breeder. She never told him what Pokemon would hatch from it. _Did she even know herself?_ It's always been her dream to enter the Pokemon League, compete in any of the Regional Championships, and perhaps even win. When she arrives, she'll be able to register as an official Pokemon Trainer.

It was Saturday afternoon. She was to leave Monday morning.

The thought brought tears to his eyes.

He heard a sigh. "Are you crying now?" _What a rhetorical question…_

Caitlin put the egg down between them, and then wrapped her arms around his moist body. "Hey, you better be a good cook by the time I get back. I expect some pretty fancy stuff to celebrate my victory in the Championship Finals! I expect fine-dining fit for a _real_ Champion!"

Once Richard calmed down, the two of them lay down further back on the dock, expecting to sunbathe for a short while. Neither of them expected to fall asleep, and nobody expected the winds to blow fiercer, waves to hit harder, and those black clouds to cloud the dream-like sky.

Or was it the storm that was the dream?

_**Richard's POV: **_

"...e…"

"…"

"…ey"

"…ey!"

"HEY!"

I flung forward, wide awake. I realised that the man above my head seemed vaguely familiar. I also realised that I didn't wake up from his yelling. A wave had somehow flown over the deck and splashed me; I was soaked. That type of stuff doesn't happen; the water's never this rough around the dock,

but I doubt that I truly recognised all of that back then. My eyes stung and my ears rung. I had no idea what was going on, except that a hand was around my arm, raising me to my feet. My vision was blurred, my head spinning, but Caitlin was there as well. I noticed that the egg was still in her arms, but she appeared to be shocked as well.

Thunder.

A roar filled my ears, and my body was suddenly bombarded by bullets of water.

"WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE _NOW_!" He was the fisherman from earlier. I could tell that he was screaming, but I could barely hear his voice. The dock was shaking. I started to fall backwards.

Caitlin grabbed me.

The fisherman scooped up our clothes and we all made a run for it. I nearly slipped a few times on the wet wood.

"HERE!" The fisherman passed me my sandals, which I quickly slipped on. They were drenched; it was like sticking a pair of dish sponges to my feet.

I looked down and saw that Caitlin was already wearing her sandals. _How long had I been out for?_

We reached the sloped platform that led back to the top of the sea wall.

We just reached the top.

Chaos.

A devastatingly strong burst of wind tore right by us. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the egg fly out of Caitlin's arms. It was falling into the water.

She jumped.

I don't even remember whether or not I screamed. Perhaps I did, perhaps I didn't. I can't recall hearing my own voice. I definitely didn't hear the fisherman scream at me when I tried to dive in after her. I pulled myself all the way to the edge of the sea wall, but he just wouldn't let me follow. I struggled like mad, but his grasp was too strong. However, I was still able see everything that happened. It's the only vivid memory I have of that day. Despite the dense rainfall, the roaring wind, and the obscured lack of light, I saw it all.

I saw Caitlin swimming with the egg, trying to get to the dock.

I saw Caitlin attempt to get up onto the dock.

I saw Caitlin toss the egg into a large bin on the dock.

I saw Caitlin get pulled back into the ocean.

I saw Caitlin fight the waves, desperately trying to stay above water.

I saw Caitlin be thrown into a docked boat by a sudden surge.

I saw Caitlin flail over the chain that connected the boat and the dock.

I saw Caitlin die.


	4. Darkness

**Chapter 3: Darkness **

My body was still aching from all of that walking today, but I was curious about the sirens. It sounded as if they were coming closer and closer.

Was there an accident?...

Sketch grabbed my raincoat for me as I gradually rolled out of bed. He was probably exhausted as well, but we both share this common, stubborn urge: We won't let an opportunity pass by without a care, without imposing any resistance against the flow of events around us. Even so, it was difficult to force myself off of the mattress; it was far more comfortable than what I paid for. I could've probably just lain there for the rest of my life.

I left my bag with all of my writing equipment inside the room, and then I locked the door. For the second time, I noticed the quaint craftsmanship of the doorknob. There wasn't a window in the room, but I could hear pattering from the ceiling, which was probably close to the roof. I didn't want my belongings to get soaked again, but this jacket was waterproof. We carefully rushed down the stairs, keeping a firm grip on the fine, vintage wood railings. This wasn't a standard hotel; it was an inexpensive inn run by an elderly widow. It used to be a house that belonged to her and her husband, but she moved around the furniture and ordered some renovations done after his death. She rents out rooms to travelers passing by; I guess she enjoys the company.

We walked down into the lobby, where Lady Patterson was behind the desk. Her white hair was bundled up nicely, and she was sitting in her armchair reading an old, worn book. She looked up at me as I came down, her face weathered by time, the fire in her eyes dimmed but still present. She carried a unique, almost unnatural air of liveliness.

"Why, hello, Ms. Badar," she said with her aged but compassionate voice, "It's good to see you again." I think that she noticed my clothes. "You're not planning on going out _there_, are you?" I couldn't hear the siren anymore, so the emergency vehicle must have stopped.

"Yes, I am," I replied, "I want to see what's going on outside."

Her face turned grave; she was startled with concern. "Are you sure? It's not very pleasant weather, you know."

"I'm a journalist," I explained, "It would be good for me to check things out, right?"

She stared at me for a while; I didn't fully realise what she was thinking about then until much, much later. She released a long sigh, and then stared back down at her book.

"Fine, fine... Just be sure to close the door on your way out. I don't want too much rain getting in here, and we don't want all of the heat to escape."

Sketch waved goodbye to her as we walked towards the main door. It looked far more modern compared to the rest of the building; everything in the main room was upgraded for added protection. It was the same with the windows. The curtains were shut now, but I noticed them earlier. We pulled the door open and walked outside.

As soon as we did, the wind nearly swept us away. The rain felt like needles against my body, even with the coat on. Sketch grabbed onto my leg for support; I could feel that his fur was already soaked. I looked around, and my vision was quickly blurred; the rain was collecting on my glasses. It was dark outside, and the sky was definitely cloud-covered. Trees were swaying in the wind; if the gusts were any stronger, a few of them might have fallen.

I noticed some flashing lights down the seaside walkway, so Sketch and I advanced down in the general direction. We walked slowly along the sodden pathway; it was like walking in a pool of shallow water. The lights were growing even brighter, flashing blue and red, colours dancing across the curtains of water.

In the veil of downpour, I saw them.

There was an ambulance and a police car parked by the pier, both of which roared from the pound of raindrops. We walked briskly through the heavy downpour. There were only a few people out there. It looked as if a boy in his mid-teens was injured and was receiving medical attention. I also saw what appeared to be a fisherman, along with a few men in uniform.

There was also something being loaded into the back of the ambulance; it was covered and rested on a stretcher.

I knew what that mound was.

I ran over, yelling, "Hey!" My voice was carried by the air, probably in the wrong direction, as soon as it left my mouth.

I saw one police officer turn his head and move towards me. I wondered if it was just a coincidence; I couldn't believe that someone actually heard me in these conditions. The storm was so crippling that the entire environment was conquered by the roars of wind and rain.

"What's going on? Did something happen?" I tried to ask.

It was difficult to really see, but I do remember one thing: Although the man was young, his eyes were dead. Not emotionally dead, just... dead, as if some intelligent weight was sucked right out of his being. His voice carried quite well through the storm, but it sounded strained and monotonous. "Nothing happened here. You should be indoors right now. It's not safe to be out in a storm like this."

My fingers were numb, and I could barely feel my face. My lips felt alien to me as I asked, "Is that person going to be okay?"

The officer grabbed me, a hand on each of my arms. He was wearing black gloves, but they were drenched as well, most likely even more than Sketch's fur. Water was running down his face. "Please, Miss. Go home. Nothing happened here."

I didn't want to give in, to give up. "I'm a journalist," I stammered in, "Please let me find out what happened."

I saw a few scarce emotions blitz across his face: irritation, contempt, despair, and a definite presence of pain. "Go. Home," he ordered, his voice piercing right through me. "If you don't comply, then we will be forced to take you into the station for questioning."

My face would've paled if it wasn't already frozen. I spun around and left without saying another word. I noticed Sketch stare at the man before taking my lead.

When we were a fair distance away, I looked back into the realm of darkness. The ambulance was already gone, and the police car was driving away into the obfuscating shadows.

I reached my hand up and touched my cheek. Cold and cold, wet and wet. My eyes were blurry, and my face was soaked. My legs were wobbling and I was trembling all over; I'm glad that Sketch was there with me.

Why?...

I was screaming when they were inspecting me; I was still screaming in the ambulance on the immortal ride to the hospital. The paramedics were vainly trying to bring her back.

"Are you okay, sir? Are you hurt?" they asked. Well, what do they _fucking_ think? I just saw my best friend, my _only_ friend, **die** before my very eyes, and what could I do?

I couldn't do fucking shit.

What was fucking wrong with them? Caitlin was there, dead, and they were still trying to bring her back somehow. They kept asking me if I was _okay_, like the cuts on my feet from the wooden dock even remotely compared to a permanent, eternal slumber.

Fuck.

I wailed like a baby all the way there.

Is that what she would have wanted? Would she have wanted to come back? Would she have wanted to see me like this, to watch this chaos? What would she have wanted **me** to have done?

I don't fucking know. There's something wrong with me.

My eyes stung; they were probably red and swollen. I could barely see; my world was just vague silhouettes of light.

_More like darkness… _

It felt as if the ambulance was no longer moving, but I was so detached that it barely made a difference to me. The paramedics were removing the stretcher to take into the building. I got out as well, limping, swaying, like some sort of zombie. There was something round and warm in my hands; it was gradually becoming too heavy for me to carry.

I heard a rush of footsteps. I felt someone grab me, and I heard voices… Perhaps it was my mother, or my father. It didn't really matter, as I couldn't understand a single fucking word they said.

I was considering my options up to the point when I passed out; I wanted this horrific nightmare to end and leave me in boundless solitude.

I was half-awake when I emptily scanned the rooms with my sore eyes. I vaguely heard murmurs, but I couldn't make out anything that was being said. There was something wrapped around both of my feet. _Are these bandages?..._

Somebody else was sobbing. I stared across this prison, and saw a relatively young woman with long, light brown hair. Her face was covered in her hands, but I recognised her instantly as Caitlin's mother. She was a single mother; Caitlin didn't like talking about it.

That meant that the two figures talking to the man in what appeared to be a white coat were probably my parents.

She was dead; there was no way that she could've survived what I just saw.

I silently began to sob to myself. _Why was I saying things like this? _There's always a chance, there's always a hope. There's always something to go by; Caitlin always said that, teaching me in her own peculiar, irrational way.

_Where's that fucking hope now?_

I tried to lift up an arm, and then I realised that I could barely move. I guess that I was exhausted.

_More like defeated. _

Even though my ears were definitely ringing, I was just able to hear something from my side. I strained my head just a bit to the right, and I witnessed a living, everyday miracle.

There was a Pokemon egg in a basket; it was the life that Caitlin gave hers to. It was shaking even more frantically than earlier; the noise must be the sound of the to-be-born Pokmon beating against the shell.

I then knew what I was going to do. In fact, I finally realised what she meant all this time.

She was gone, but her dream wasn't. Her wish: travel to Johto, enter the Pokemon League, compete in the Regional Championships, and win it all.

It was then that I decided to give up my life for Caitlin, whose own life was seized by chance but invested in an infinitely hopeful future.

It was all that I could do. After all, at least in my own opinion, it was a better option than hanging myself.

_Where am I?..._

_Who am I?... _

_I can't feel anything…_

_I can't see anything…_

But then I could.

I was in a world of darkness… Not just darkness, but it was as if nothing was there at all. It was like some kind of space of nothingness… and I felt like I was part of it as well. I temporarily lost all sense of identity. However, I saw an incoming light in the distance. It grew in size; I don't know if it was actually growing or if it was coming closer. The light gradually took shape into a small creature of sorts. It was pink. It had blue eyes and a long tail. I didn't know what it was. It just kept staring at me…

…

Like Richard.

I felt something inside me sink, and it only fell deeper inside of me with each returning second of the past. I realised who I was, but I still didn't know where I was.

I now knew what a Mew was.

"Hiya," it said... At least I think it said that. I didn't see its mouth move, but I heard its voice somehow.

"Where am I?" was what I wanted to say, but I couldn't. In fact, I still couldn't move at all.

"Where do _you_ think you are?" Mew replied, with a grin on its face, "Nowhere, or now here?"

I would've been furious with the runty pink deity, but I had trouble feeling _anything_ at the time.

I just did nothing.

Mew floated up and down before flying around me. I soon became unsure if I was standing up or lying down… It seemed as if nothingness didn't have any sense of orientation and direction.

"I don't know where we are either," Mew responded, smirking even more than before.

I really wanted to pummel the fucking little furball.

"You humans call it a lot of things… Hmm… How should I explain this…" It started to twirl around like a child's toy top.

"Umm…. How do I… Ah! Right, that's it. Your life is over. You died."

I remembered diving into the water for that egg. I couldn't let something so vulnerable like that just die before having the chance to live out its opportunities. When I saw the opening to throw it to safety, I took it. I thought that having both arms free would help me escape the water quicker as well, but I didn't expect to get thrown back into the water immediately… I didn't expect to be thrown into whatever I hit… I think that it was some kind of stupid ship.

"Mew?" I tried to say.

"Yeppers," it replied.

"Is the egg okay?"

"Yesh, it ish… Oh, and umm… Sorry, we don't have much time left. I kind of wasted it all having fun and stuff… Alright."

Mew flew right in front of my face and planted its big honking eyes in front of mine.

"Do you want to live again?"

I tried to process that, but something inside me wasn't working.

Its small triangular ears twitched. "Umm, we don't have much time left, so we need to decide quickly. Would you like to return to your world and live again? Would you like to be reborn?"

_WAIT! Reborn! I would be able to li-_

"What's the catch?"

It blinked once. "You'll be a Pokemon."

My hope disappeared just like that.

"A Pokemon?... You've gotta be fucking shitting me. Why can't I become human again?"

"Nopes," replied Mew, "become a living Pokemon, or stay an unliving whatever you call yourself now."

I was confused. Was my life some toy for the gods to screw around with? "Why are you even giving me a choice?"

"Because you had a good future ahead of you… but there's still a chance to compensate for what was lost, to make up for what could have been with what is yet to be."

I didn't know how to reply to that. Aren't _they_ the ones responsible for controlling my destiny? Why would I have a choice?

"Look," interrupted Mew, "you honestly don't have much time left. I was going to go over the conditions with you, but then it would be too late to choose anyways. You need to make a decision right now. Yes, or no? Yes, or no? Yes, or no?"

Fuck, I wanted to punch the stupid thing in the face. "Okay, okay, I'll take it. But you better tell me those condi-"

Suddenly, I could feel again.

It felt like I was being torn apart from the inside. It was as if my body was crumbling in on itself, as if I was being sucked into a vacuum. I would've screamed in pain, but I still couldn't make a real sound. Or perhaps I was simply deaf…

"Sorry," Mew yelled, its voice fading into the void, "there's no more time! You need to go!"

Darkness.


	5. The M Word

**Chapter 4: The "M" Word **

**Caitlin's POV**

After that _little_ incident in the "afterlife," I felt my body condense and contract as I was engulfed into the shadow of abyss.

However, it felt totally different.

It felt as if I was capable of a bit of movement. I think that I could speak a little at the time, and I am pretty sure that there were sounds coming in from around me.

I could move, but I was trapped.

I pounded on the walls of the cage, but they barely trembled. I tried again, but received a similar result. Thus, I decided to just drive my fucking head into the fucking barrier until it broke.

Luckily, it gave way after one try.

My eyes were instantly blinded by light. I couldn't see a thing, and I simply cried out in pain; I guess my head kinda hurt. My voice sounded a bit different, but I could barely care then; I wonder if it would've been better if I stayed in the darkness.

Suddenly, I felt two… hands?... pick me up by the head, and I suddenly felt the warmth tingle across my body. Somebody or something was holding me to their chest, and I suddenly felt safe and secure, as if my worries all disappeared.

I tried to speak, but the words weren't coming out properly.

My eyes gradually adjusted to the blazing environment, and I stared up. What I saw disgusted me. It was a humongous face with swollen red eyes.

It took me a while to process that this giant was Richard and that I was Caitlin.

I wasn't too sure about that last bit, though. My ears felt strange, my fingers felt odd, my skin felt sore, and there was something sticking out of my ass that wasn't there before.

Anyways, after that, only two thoughts crossed my mind: Richard looked like fucking shit, and I was fucking starving.

I wailed for attention.

I had no idea where I was, but I think that more people were gathering over. One of them took me from Richard's hands and moved me randomly through the air, tilting me at different angles as if I was some kind of fucking specimen to inspect.

"Congratulations," the voice began, "there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with this Eevee. It's marvellous that it will be able to survive and grow to be a strong young male. Despite the tragedy earlier, it is far better to lose only one life than two." He handed me back. "I wish you the best of luck in raising the young lad."

My mind stopped working when I heard the "m" word.

Richard worked for his family's business; the parents owned a somewhat popular restaurant in Vermilion. Although they would occasionally hire somebody part-time to help wait tables, this was really only done for busiest days of the week. Richard ended up being largely responsible for both waiting tables and washing dishes. It was difficult for him to handle on his own; he was an only child, so he almost never received extra assistance. He wasn't allowed to cook for the customers, but he's messed around on his own before. His food wasn't half-bad. His parents promised that they'd teach him to cook sometime in the future.

Like that ever happened.

He's always needed to stay up late for work, which was why I was so lucky to be able to pull him out of the diner once in a while; he would be better off with some fresh air. Unfortunately, most of the time I needed to sit at one of the tables and watch him work, which, I admit, wasn't all too bad. Occasionally, I would help wash dishes and tables, though his parents strongly objected to it; they believed that he needed to "man up and just get it done"… As if they cared.

I personally think that they should just "fuck off and let him do what he wants." Of course I never said that to their faces. It's not that I didn't like his parents or respect them or anything, which I didn't, it's just that they're a pair of fucking dipshits.

He promised me that he would be a pro cook by the time I returned from my journey. I always wanted to fine dine, but could never afford it.

My mother used to work as a cashier in a local supermarket; now she has the accountant position. I don't have a father. (Don't fucking ask about it.) I don't have any siblings either, thank Mew for that. It was hard enough for my mom to pay the bills _and_ look after the two of us; I can't imagine what it would be like with one more mouth to feed.

I hoped that she wouldn't fucking kill herself now that I disappeared off the face of the Earth as well.

"**Caitlin's" POV**

Everything after that was a bit of a blur, a bunch of mushed up thoughts and ideas that don't even deserve to be called memories.

I kept crying until Richard was given a bottle of something to feed me with. After that, he carried me as he walked home with his parents. My mother went in the opposite direction. None of us owned a car.

I must've fallen asleep, because my "memories" resumed again at the chime of the restaurant door. It was a junky little hole in the wall. Paint was peeling off, and tables and chairs were chipped all over. It was one of the cleanest restaurants in town, but that's only because Richard was "asked" to "tidy" everything up. My microscopic body trembled with each step he took up the stairs to his home, which was the upper floor of the restaurant. Everything seemed so fucking enormous.

This became even more apparent when Richard put me on his desk while he started to get changed for bed. There were a few things that I should've noticed, such as the bandages wrapped around his feet, or even the fact that he was stripping, but something even more important captivated my attention.

I was on his desk. The ancient keyboard wired to the ancient box that he calls a "com-pu-tah" was right next to my miniscule furry body. The giant box-shaped monitor was glowing.

I made a desperate attempt to get to my feet, but nearly plummeted off the side of the table. I didn't want to miss this opportunity, _hell knows when I'd get another,_ so I crawled and flailed across the few centimetres between me and the lump of garbage. I leaned over the keys, and that's when I noticed something was fucking wrong.

I couldn't read the fucking letters on the keyboard.

Something was _definitely _fucking wrong. I knew how to type, but something was freezing up in my head; I didn't know where each key was on the keyboard.

I was fucking illiterate.

That's when I felt hands go around my tiny self. "Time for bed little guy."

It's not like I wanted to sleep, but Richard was passed out. I personally couldn't help but stay awake.

The "g" word reminded me of the "m" word, and I don't mean "mother," I mean fucking "male." I was a guy now. Not only was I no longer human, but I was male. Despite being a furball, I curled up even more, just waiting to wake up. My life was like some kind of cruel joke. I didn't realise that being reborn as a Pokemon meant being reborn as a male Eevee that was born from the egg I successfully saved. I've always wanted an Eevee, but I didn't want to _become_ an Eevee and be stuck that way for the rest of my life, let alone switch genders as well. Now I had a fucking tail, four fucking legs, and a pair of fucking big ears. My eyes probably looked fucking gigantic as well.

It was too much to take in at once. I wanted to bang my head on something until it was all over, but I was so weak that I could barely move. It was pretty shitty being a baby Pokemon.

"_Please, please, please don't try to kill yourself. It took enough energy to bring you back in the first place." _

I knew that voice.

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!" I screamed. I hated the sound of my new voice; my rage must sound fucking adorable to human ears.

"_I'm in your _**head**_,"_ replied the voice.

I really wanted to bang my head on something to kill both me and Mew in the process, but I still couldn't muster the energy to do that.

"You've gotta be fucking shitting me."

"_Didn't you say that earlier?"_

"Just go away," I begged, "I'm going to wake Richard up, and it's going to be all your fault."

"_No you won't,"_ the voice replied smugly, _"I froze time; it's going to resume when I leave."_

I really wanted to give the pink furball a piece of my mind. "Why the fuck did you have me killed?"

"_Wait, what? What do you mean by tha-"_

"You know exactly what I mean. You had me killed, you had me reborn as a fucking male, and you told me that I 'wasn't meant to die' even though you did nothing about it when you can fucking freeze time."

"_No!" _the voice panicked, _"You don't understand. First of all, the time-freezing skill is a trick that I learned from Celebi. Second of all, the Legendaries aren't omnipotent. Fate isn't set in stone either; the future is affected by every single action you take. It's just th-"_

Stupid excuses. "THEN WHY DID I FUCKING DIE, AND WHY AM I FUCKING MALE!"

There was a pause. _"I'm sorry… I truly am. It's just that nothing can be done right now. Normally we might have been able to convince Celebi to alter time and prevent that storm from coming in, but…"_

"But what?"

I heard a sigh_. "Celebi can travel to any point in time except for a few critical keystones that basically control the future of the entire world. Celebi hasn't been able to travel to any time period within the past few months… Celebi tried checking the future as well, and nothing has been working."_

"So what does that mean?"

"_It means that something bad's going to happen." _

"…Do you realise how shitty that excuse is?"

"_I do, but it's the truth… Celebi can't directly interact with this general period of time. It's kinda like… It's like there's one event, and that one event's outcome could drastically change the course of events in the future, making everything really unstable. Celebi can only interact while in stable period of time, and these kinds of extreme interactions makes things even worse anyways. Perhaps Giratina would be able to explain it better, but basically we have to wait things out. Really, what's done is done. Nothing can rewrite your death, and I can't change your gender either. You humans and your 'science' have proven that most Eevees are born male." _

I didn't have a reply to that.

"_I know that you want me to leave, but I need to quickly explain the conditions and restrictions of your rebirth. First of all, if you die, you will not be given the option to be reborn again. Second of all, you lose your literacy, which you have already realised. Third of all, when harbouring the desire to die or the intention of dying, you will not die." _

_HOLD ON! _"Wait, so I'm basically invincible?"

"_No. If someone had a gun to your head and you wanted to die, even just a tiny bit, you would narrowly survive, pretty much by miracle. It would be a painful survival, but you wouldn't be dead." _

I shuddered at the thought.

"_Fourth of all, there are a few select people who are not allowed to and will not receive the knowledge of your past life as Caitlin unless they discover for themselves." _

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"_It means that you can't have someone else tell Richard that you're Caitlin, even if he or she wanted to. It means that you can't have a message written by someone else that says that you're Caitlin, and then have Richard read it. It means that you can't tell him yourself, tell him indirectly, or trick somebody into doing that. If somebody wanted to find out, they'd need to stumble upon the idea and sincerely accept it as fact." _

"How does _that_ work? I mean, how do you honestly expect to monitor something like that?"

"_Just don't test me. There are a number of ways to deal with that type of situation, so don't expect to get away with it." _

"Well, it's not like anyone else can understand me anyways. Another Pokemon would, but it's not like Richard will understand it any better than he will me."

Mew ignored my obviously obvious remark. _"The list includes Richard, his parents, and your mother. Another thing that's related, those with mind-reading powers will not be able to detect your human memories. This will probably make them harder to convince and thus less likely to believe that you were human."_

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"_Well, those who can mind-read probably would expect confirmation of the rebirth idea, which they wouldn't be able to receive from your memories._"

... I was extremely confused when I was told all of this.

"_This last thing isn't a condition, but more of a result: If you lock eyes with another reborn, each of you will see the moment at which the other died."_

That got me thinking for a sec. "Other reborns? So there are others like me?"

There wasn't a reply. I buried my head in the huge blanket and screamed.

Fuck.

"**Caitlin's" POV**

When I woke up, it was still dark; I didn't realise that nearly a whole day passed. I was on top of a jacket; it took me a long time to realise that the coat belonged to me. The material wasn't very heavy and therefore wouldn't be all that thick, but I was somehow elevated off the floor a fair bit; I thought that the jacket was resting on the duffle bag that I bought Richard earlier in the year.

My fucking big ears twitched. I heard voices from behind the door, and my hearing was sharp enough that I could understand every single word.

I was hungry… kinda starving, actually, but I ignored it; I didn't know that I was going to lose my appetite so quickly anyways.

It was Richard's voice. I could tell that he was struggling to hold back tears. "You've ALWAYS made me do EVERYTHING in this restaurant. You would never do anything for me except scream at me! You would push me over, and kick until I puked. After all these years you've NEVER taught me to cook! NEVER!" His voice was cracking. My heart was following; I never knew about any of this, and I'm sure that he wasn't exaggerating. I know that I never explained what happened with my father, but I can't believe that he would hide something this fucking bad. I guess that's why he's always been so sore all of the time… I guess that affected his coordination as well. Wow, maybe he wasn't that much of a klutz after all.

"I've always had to do EVERYTHING myself, so why should I stop NOW!"

His father sounded pretty pissed. "For once in your life, boy, just listen to us. The funeral's tomorrow afternoon. You should stay."

"No, I won't! Caitlin spent a fortune on that ticket, and I won't let her spirit and dreams go to waste! It's what she would want me to do!" At the time, I didn't actually realise that Richard was going to carry out my own dream for me… I do admit, though, I'd rather for him to leave on his own journey than to wear a shitty old black suit and mourn my fucking stupid death over my fucking dead body like it was something to put on fucking display. "Anyways, once it's over, you're not going to let me leave; I'll be just as trapped as I've always been!"

"So, what? Are you just going to leave and become a fucking Pokemon Trainer or something?"

"Yeah, I AM!"

"What about the restaurant! Are you just going to leave me and your mother here!"

"You've never appreciated my help. All you do is scream at me every time I make a single fucking mistake. You're better off without me. Now, I'm LEAVING! DON'T try to stop me!"

"You can't do this!" I heard footsteps, and I flinched when the door swung open. I was suddenly being lifted into the air; it was definitely the duffle bag.

"GET BACK HERE BOY!" I was scared out of my furry skin.

I grabbed onto the one strap with my forepaws, holding on for my dear and shitty life, as the bag flew around Richard's body. He was turning to the side, and soon he was turning in the opposite direction again.

I heard the sound of crashing glass.

That scream was imprinted in my memory ever since. 

"MY NAME ISN'T 'BOY,' IT'S RICHARD! I'M FUCKING _SHOCKED_ YOU DIDN'T KNOW!"

I was soaring through the air as Richard ran out of his house. I was a fucking flying Eevee.

The doorbell fell and clang as it hit the ground. Despite my shit-coloured coat, I was chilled as we entered the callous night.


	6. Clock on the Wall

**Chapter 5: Clock on the Wall**

Pure brilliance.

I stared out across the ocean and gazed as the golden crimson was just drifting over the horizon. Unmoving, but I knew that it was; it would all disappear ever so shortly.

I had taken a picture.

Rei was resting on my shoulder, watching as well. I've had the Riolu by my side for as long as I could remember. I guessed that it would all begin shortly… the start of my journey.

The ship was rocking slightly, but it was unnoticeable. The waves weren't at all particularly strong today. The wind was playing with my hair, though not from particularly strong gusts, but due to the movement of the boat; I could tell because my camera still hung heavy around my neck.

I loved the way that the sun was playing with the scenery, spreading its radiant wings across the world. I spun around when I heard the thump of boots on metal. The Captain was heading down the light-coloured stairs, and it looked as if he had come to see me. The crew must be manning the boat right now.

He had a great white beard and he wore some kind of special uniform; his pins were different from the other sailors', and they glared off of the fading sun. His eyes seemed dull, but I knew not to underestimate him. He really looked just like a stereotypical ship captain, and it was great that he was friends with my father.

"Son," he said, "How are you doing out here?"

"Just fine," I replied, "Is something the matter?"

"Why, yes," he replied, "There's been a change of plans."

I felt a pang in my chest.

"Oh, what's happened?"

"The S.S. Anne, the Kanto cruise ship that travels mainly back and forth between Kanto and Johto, has been caught in some sort of storm."

"Wait, what?" I stared out over the calm ocean, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. "Where is this?"

"Over somewhere between Orre and Johto. That ship was making some kind of delivery trip, though it was a cruise ship, and it was caught unexpectedly in a storm. The blasted thing somehow evaded their radars and appeared out of nowhere." He looked back towards the top of the ship. "Anyways, it was supposed to pick up a small number of people in Johto, head over to Kanto, and go back to Johto again."

Another pang, though this one felt substantially different.

"We've been called in to take over for the S.S. Anne in Kanto. We're not as large of a vessel, but this beauty's got more than enough room for the scheduled passengers. Another ship situated in Sunnyshore was asked to take our place. We're the closest to the location right now, and the only one with the ability to cover for them by the deadline."

This sensation must've been evident on my face.

"Son, it was planned," began Captain, "that you would head to Hoenn, but I could easily drop you off in Johto instead, as that was where you originally wished to travel, right?"

Rei wrapped her arms around my head and cried out cheerfully. I guess that she was as happy as I was. "That'd be excellent," I replied, "Thank you so much."

He let out a jolly, bellowing laugh. "Ah, it's my pleasure. I'm glad that everything worked out for you."

"Yeah," I replied, slightly dazed, as I stared out over the ocean again.

The sun was nearly gone.

"**Caitlin's" POV **

I was lucky that it wasn't still raining when Richard and I left. Even though the storm was last night, evidence of its existence was everywhere; torn branches and leaves were littered across the street, there still weren't any people outside except for us, assuming that I still count as a "person," and rain was constantly dripping off of rooftops from the earlier downpour.

Furthermore, there was me. I was probably the biggest piece of evidence there was that something happened.

Yet I wasn't, because nobody would ever know.

I started to tear up as Richard's pace slowed to a walk. It was probably safe enough for me to loosen my grip on the bag strap, but I couldn't take any risks and get run over by a car later on or something. After all, I wouldn't be able to come back again.

I tried to look at his face, but it was so… strange. It was as if he was in a daze, but not at all similar to when he's staring at me. I thought that he was just wandering aimlessly until I realised that we were heading back to the dock.

I shivered, or perhaps I was trembling.

I glanced around us and noticed that we were already walking along the seawall. It wasn't much longer until we reached the point where I jumped off. It didn't look any different from how it looked yesterday, or the day before that, or the day before that, but I remember it; I know that this was where I sealed my fate. I really have to wonder what would've happened if I didn't jump. Would I have survived, or would something else have happened to me? The egg definitely would've been a goner, which would've entirely fucked up my Trainer plans in Johto; you can't exactly go up to random people and ask for a free Pokemon like some kind of beggar. I was better off just accepting the past for what it was.

I still couldn't accept that I was now a fucking male fur ball.

Richard was just leaning over the edge of the seawall, staring down at the point where I probably entered the waves. Tears were falling into the ocean.

I made a little baby Eevee noise.

He didn't hear it. Either that or he was ignoring it.

I tried again, and got the same result.

That's when I started crying again, releasing all, or at least some, of the stress I've been feeling since I was reborn.

It took fucking crying to catch his attention, and it wasn't immediate either. _Holy shit, it better not be this difficult during the rest of journey, or it's going to fucking suck to be a baby under his care, and I mean the total lack of it. _

He picked me up in his hands and gazed at me for a short while. He kissed me on the nose, but it was more like he was kissing my entire face because I was so fucking tiny.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, under his breath, before lowering me further down and cradling me as he walked, "Let's find some place to sleep for the night."

He didn't want to risk getting confronted by his parents, or the police for that matter, so we continued further into the outskirts of town. Soon, we found a large house-like building. Everything about it was incredibly quaint except for the large glass doors. A sign on the building said "Trainer's Inn." I was quite surprised that the door was unlocked. We walked into the vintage-styled lobby. An elderly woman was asleep behind a large antique desk.

Richard went up to her. "Excuse me?"

Her eyes shot open. "Who is this? Who's there?" She stared at his face for a while.

Richard was still slightly dazed. "Oh, ummm, sorry about that. I was just wondering if you had a spare room. We're just going to be staying for one night."

"Oh, silly, of course there's room. We've only got one guest checked in right now." She moved the book on her desk aside and pulled out a larger one, probably for keeping track of guests. She wrote something down and then pulled out a key. "Here you go, and I say, that is quite an adorable Eevee you have there."

"Thank you very much ma'am."

"**Caitlin's" POV **

Richard was already asleep. His face was still disgusting from all the tears. I personally couldn't sleep. After all that happened, how could I? There was that fucking annoying ticking noise as well.

I heard something move outside the door. Very, VERY subtle footsteps.

"Hello?" whispered a voice, or at least that's what it sounded like. I didn't think that it was human. I actually wanted to go over there and possibly chat, assuming that the other Pokemon didn't want to eat me or something… but it wasn't an option at all; I was stuck on top of this fucking high mountain of a bed.

"Can I open the door?"

Richard wasn't going to wake up. "No, of course not!" I yelled back, though it sounded more like a squeak.

"Oh…" replied the voice. It sounded a bit hurt. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to come in and say hi."

I was already feeling a bit guilty, especially since the voiced sounded so fucking sincere. We both had a rough couple of days, but that wasn't the best excuse to bitch at someone I'd never even met before.

"Umm… Okay, fine, just be quiet," I said softly. _How is a Pokemon going to open a door anyways?_

The door gently opened, and a Smeargle entered the room. He looked a bit nervous.

"Hi," he stammered timidly.

"Hey," I replied, trying to sound normal.

"I'm really sorry about just now," he started, "I didn't mean any harm."

_Ugh. Fucking hell._ "Really, don't worry about it."

"Alright, thanks. My name is Sketch. What's yours?"

_My… name?_ I wanted to say "Caitlin," but that wasn't exactly a boy's name, let alone a male furball's name. Well, I was technically born just yesterday. "I don't have one," I replied, "I was born, ummm, yesterday." _Holy shit, that sounded retarded. _

"Oh, have you met any other Pokemon yet, and is that your Trainer?"

"No, you're the first, and I guess that he's technically a Trainer. His name's Richard, and we're leaving for the Johto Region tomorrow morning." I had no idea why the fuck I was telling a complete stranger all of this.

"Really?" his voice rising slightly, "My trainer's Chloe, and we're leaving for Johto tomorrow as well. Ship, right?"

_Wow._ "Yeah, by ship…" It was just then that I wondered if Richard even had my ticket, and how he was going to pass by as being a "Caitlin".

"Maybe we'll see each other again."

"Yeah, maybe we will." I wasn't exactly going to be _going_ anywhere on that ship, which meant that Sketch would probably look for me or something. I definitely found it a bit disturbing, but whatever.

"Anyways, I'm going to head back to my Trainer's room. She's already asleep, and I should probably rest as well." He was already out of the room and gently closing the door. "Have a good night," he whispered.

"Yeah, sure, thanks." I looked around the room and realised where the fucking ticking noise was coming from. There was an analogue clock on the wall. The numbers along the sides were gibberish to me; I just knew from the positions of the arms that it was late. Everyone uses digital nowadays.

I buried my face into the bed sheets.

Fuck.

"**Caitlin's" POV **

I woke to the sound of knocking on the door. I turned to my side and saw that Richard was still sleeping. I tried to wake him up gently by touching his face, but when that failed I just climbed over to his ear and screamed, or rather squeaked.

He screamed in response before swinging straight up.

"Wha-" He heard the door. He tiredly got out of bed, rubbing his eyes with his hands, and walked over to find out who it was.

The old lady from the night before brought some bread for us to eat for breakfast. Technically it was just for Richard since I was technically a fucking baby who couldn't "eat" anything except baby formula.

"This doesn't usually happen," she said, "but the other guest checked out this morning as well." After that, Richard paid and she checked us out. "Stay as long as you need," she said, "I'll just clean everything up when you're gone."

The bread was from a local bakery and was apparently a lot better than what was served in the restaurant. I paid practically no attention to any of that; I had just realised that the bandages around Richard's feet were stained red.

He pretended that nothing was wrong as he put on some heavier clothes, and reached into my jacket. It was the one that I had brought with me before I died; the boarding pass was there, and he pulled it out. He stared at it for a while.

"Shit," he breathed. I wasn't meant to hear that, but I did. He was finally realising what I worried about the night before.

He also looked at the clock on the wall, and it wasn't until that moment that something else was wrong.

He put what was left of the bread into his mouth to hold, as he grabbed me and his duffle bag.

"Sorry little guy, we need to rush outta here." My tiny body bobbed up and down as he raced down the stairs and out through the main doors.

We might miss the fucking ferry.


	7. Things Again

**To Returning Readers:** The following was posted at the start of the updated Prologue.

The Prologue and chapters **one** to **five** have been edited for the purpose of new readers only. If you are a returning reader, I would suggest jumping to the newest chapter.

As some of you may have already known, I rushed when writing these first few chapters; I completed two or three of them per day. Due to complaints from readers, I decided to revise the chapters for the sake of new readers. If you are a **returning** reader, there will be little value in reading these again; I have not changed the plot.

However, I will **not** be revising these chapters again. **If you encounter a typo that you would like to be fixed, send me a PM with the specific sentence and the chapter's number/name so that I may correct the mistake for future readers.** I **do not appreciate** reviews with comments such as, "This chapter had a lot of typos in it." Such information is absolutely useless to me; these types of "reviews" don't identify my mistakes, nor do they help improve the story. If you dislike my writing to such extremes, I would suggest that you cease reading and spend your time more efficiently (i.e. reviewing other stories written by authors who actually appreciate such remarks).

* * *

I appear to have updated. Does this mean that I'm continuing the story? Not necessarily. I will provide further explanations at the end of the story.

Chapter 6 is a "partially" new chapter. It appeared in the original Perfect World, but I did not complete editing it since last night. Therefore, it is technically a story update.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Things Again **

**Chloe's POV**

I handed the passes and other information sheets over to Sketch as I unlocked the door to our cabin. I pushed open the heavy metal door to reveal a darkened room. I flipped the switch for the ceiling light, revealing a small bed, a plastic garbage can, a basic wooden table, and two wooden chairs. The walls looked a bit worn-down, but I couldn't complain. I was just so glad to finally be on the ship, even if it wasn't the S.S. Anne. I took off my bag and laid it down on the ready-made bed, while Sketch reached up to place everything on the table for later. The floor was covered with a dull carpet that still complemented the overall interior design.

I let out a huge yawn before lying down and resting my eyes. I inquired about the tournament earlier, as this ship didn't have an equipped combat zone. Apparently the battles are to now take place on the main deck, with a few spectators along the railings and the most on the upper deck. I figured that it might be busy around that elevated area, so I decided that I'd give up the small chance for a good overhead view for the guaranteed chance of absolute visibility.

Sketch ran over to me with a grin on his face. He gave a cheer, and we high-fived.

"Yeah, I know! We're finally on the ship!" We began to laugh, but then I let out another yawn. My partner followed with one as well.

I took a peek at my worn-out but still usable wristwatch. _Oh, mustn't forget to change time zones later on._

I admit that I don't normally restrain myself with things like time, but I certainly didn't want to miss any meals, especially since this was an all-inclusive trip.

I was about to ask Sketch for the cruise's schedule, but he was already bringing it over from the table.

"Thanks." I glanced over it, and then I took Sketch in for a big hug. "There's going to be an early buffet dinner tonight. I'm going to take a nap, so could you wake me up in two hours?"

"Smear!" I handed Sketch my old watch before he curled up for a quick snooze as well. He doesn't sleep as much as I do, so he'd be able to wake me up.

He also got more sleep.

I took my glasses off and lied down on the bed. I was certainly tired… especially after all that happened that night.

I felt myself gradually doze off. I was excited about finally being here, but… something felt different…

Strange…

But positive…

_I guess this is what it truly is. _

It felt like something was going to happen, and it was up to me to be there when it does.

No matter what it takes…

"**Caitlin's" POV **

The boat pulled into the docks around noon. Tons of people, some no more than ten years old, others into their later years of life, had crowded around where the platform was going to come down so we could all board. Rick and I were in the back, still outside the gate, and could see the name of the ship we were boarding with my ticket. The S.S. Elincia. It looked to just be a smaller cruise ship than the S.S. Anne, but as for why they were using it I had no clue.

Everyone waited for the boarding stairs to be positioned in place. Passengers were jostling each other, some of the older people were yelling at their kids; it was a grueling endeavor. Finally, the platform was lowered and locked, and everyone scrambled up it, a few almost being pushed over the guardrails. Rick's eyes were slightly unfocused, so I chirped, and he came to. He walked over to the gate from where we had been watching, and handed his ticket over to the clerk there.

He looked at it, and stopped us before we could go any further. "I'm sorry, sir, but this doesn't seem to be your ticket. You can't be allowed on this ship."

"Huh? What do you mean?" Rick asked the man. He eyed us up and down, his shitty brown eyes scanning quickly over Rick, and lasting on me for a bit. I looked away from him, and he cleared his throat. It sounded so exaggeratedly forced that I thought he was trying to puke his insides out.

"Well, you need to have a ticket. You do. However, it also needs to have your name on it, since this is a special cruise. Unless you're name is Caitlin, sir, I can't let you on this cruise." _Fuck you, dick face! _

Rick looked at the clerk, and I could see he eyes grow a bit colder for a split second. At least, I think I did. I wanted to tear his face apart, but I doubt that would have been an option, mainly because of my physical disabilities rather than the fact that I was supposed to be a trained Pokemon. "My friend gave me that ticket so I could go see her in Johto," was his reply. _Smart..._

The clerk smiled. "Ah. The Eevee a gift for her then?" I made a tiny growl, and Rick glared, so the clerk shut up. "But still. She should have ordered the ticket in your name, sir. I'll have to clear it with the ship's captain, since anyone could easily forge such a ticket. We had a problem with that before the S.S. Anne took off last."

"Can't you just let us on now, sir? It'd be easier, and no one would have to know." Rick was gambling now, hoping that the clerk wouldn't want any more work on his hands than he probably already had.

His face turned thoughtful, but I thought for certain he would tell us no and we'd be out of a ticket and the entire journey, when he nodded. "Fine, sir. I'll let you get on. You don't seem like one of those odd people from last time. **However**, since your ticket," he waved down at it, lying on the table, "is addressed for a 'Ms. Caitlin,' we'll have to refer to you as such until you leave the ship."

I blinked, trying to absorb what the clerk had said, but Rick took it in stride. "Alright then. I'll live with it until we're in Johto. Thank you for letting us onto the ship."

Rick walked through the gate, and up to the door. As he opened it, the clerk grinned back at us and called out, "Don't worry, Miss! I wouldn't have turned you down anyway." We could hear his laughing as we walked out onto the pier where the ship awaited its passengers. We were finally on our way to Johto, albeit under a false name.

**Unknown Male Character**

Rei and I were down by the nose of the S.S. Elincia, on the uppermost deck; no one could see us from the pier.

My Riolu partner was enjoying the sea breeze, not to say that I was not. I was multi-tasking, using the camera to take zoomed pictures of the passengers. From my understanding, this cruise is supposed to have a special beginner's tournament for low-level Pokemon. I figured that I could sell some pictures from early on at far greater value any time in the future. The crowd…

didn't look all too promising. Unfortunately, I didn't expect to profit all that much. Good thing it was all digital.

There weren't all too many passengers coming on board, and none of them looked like competent or potential trainers. Surprisingly, none of these beginners had any Pokemon out. Back at home, it wasn't rare to see children carrying their starters around wherever they went. However, that surge of people scrambling to board the ship wasn't exactly a common sight either.

I brushed a bit of my hair away from my forehead; the wind decided to be annoying that day.

_Hmmm…_

I took a picture.

There was a young woman boarding the ship, and I happened to notice that a Smeargle was following her. She didn't seem to be a trainer, but she didn't look half bad.

I started mumbling to myself. "Nice length… colour… Glasses, but who car-"

Rei whacked me on the head. "Ri!"

I turned my head and glared at Rei. My camera fell loose around my neck as I put her down.

"Hey," I scolded back, "I'm allowed to check out the ladies while I still can. I'm going to be stuck with a bunch of bratty children when the tournament starts. Hmph, never mind what I just said. We might as well just skip the tournament, because there isn't any potential on this ship anyways."

"Ri!" she yelled at me again. She sounded pissed, but I've been used to it for a long time now.

I resumed my search as Rei began to run off and explore more of the ship.

I took another picture; it was for my financial interests. A kid, I'd say in his mid-teens, just started boarding the ship. He had an Eevee in his arms; those aren't too common, but his clothes looked even shabbier than mine. I'd say that he probably had some kind of connections; he was probably an okay crowd to get with for a while, unless I see something better.

That boy fell out of my sight eventually. It was a long time before another passenger came by, and the quality of my search sort of plummeted through the floor from there.

_Wow, it seems as if these new trainers are getting worse and worse with each passing year. It's amazing that the Pokemon League still holds itself up. _

I felt some tugging on my pants leg, and I realised that my partner had returned. I picked her up and put her back on my shoulder. "Didn't find anything did you?"

She shook her head in response; there wasn't much left that she hadn't explored anyways. Rei really just enjoyed going about like that.

"You should've stayed here with me," I teased.

I got another whack in the head for that.

"Hey, well, I found one potential trainer."

She glared to me as if to say, "Only one! Perhaps I should've stayed to keep you in check."

I began to walk us back to the room. "Well, I only got one other interesting picture, so it doesn't really matter too much."

I heard a sigh in my ear, but as I was heading down the deck, I felt Rei jerk. "RI!" she cried out, pointing at something. I turned my head in that direction; I saw that she was pointing at the empty boarding area. The water was moving slightly, and there wasn't all too much glare. Although it looked more impressive without the newbie trainers, it really wasn't worth the battery life.

"There's nothing there," I replied, "You were probably seeing things again."

I heard another sigh in my ear as we left.

"**Third-Person" Perspective **

It was much later when the clerk took a peek at his wristwatch. _Just about time to wrap things up_, he thought to himself as he reached to start locking up the cash register. He noticed how calm everything looked in the gate terminal.

What he didn't notice was the low-lying figure slip through the automatic doors by the pier. He didn't notice that more than one figure had entered during that single period of time, along with the final registered passenger.

"_Excuse me?"_

What he happened to notice was that the thought he just heard in his head had a completely different _feel_ to it. Basically, it wasn't his own.

He swiftly jerked his hand away from the main desk, quite startled by the sudden noise. He spun his head around side to side, but there was no one in sight.

_Was it even something that I heard? _

"_Down here!"_

He glanced his feet, and realised that there was something else by his feet. He sprung back, nearly slipping, and saw that it was an Espeon.

"_You okay?" _it thought at him.

Hand on his chest, quite distressed by the fact that a wild Pokemon had worked its way into the terminal, he gasped, "What are you doing here?"

His sight came into focus when he realised that there was actually an object clamped in between the Pokemon's jaws. The Espeon gradually approached and placed the brown wallet by the man's feet.

"_I'd like to make a purchase"."_

"Wait," replied the clerk, "What?"

The Espeon stared up at the man with its shaded, opaque eyes. "_I'd like to purchase a ticket for this cruise."_

The man put a hand through his hair and shook his head. "Ugh, you've got to be joking. I'm sorry little guy, but we don't all-"

"_Allow wild Pokemon to rent out rooms on a cruise, but it's also against regulations to admit someone onto a ship using someone else's ticket." _

The man's face paled.

"_I assure you_," the Espeon thought-spoke with what appeared to be a subtle but smug grin, "_that boy's name isn't 'Caitlin.' Oh, but profit is profit. I'm sure that no one would mind if someone else joined this cruise; I know that there's more than enough room… though pardon that minor pun."_

The man sighed as he reached down and picked up the wallet. _Must've stolen it from some poor passenger…_ There wasn't any identification in there; it was just a plain wallet void of all but a few large bills.

"Fine, fine, fine, what do you want?" the man said as he walked back over to the cash register. The Espeon moved out of the way as well. "_Just a standard room. It's going to be quite spacious anyways, considering my relative size. I think that there should be enough money in that wallet, but I really can't tell." _

The clerk took a brief peek; there was definitely more than enough. He reached in for a suitable amount, but dared not try to cheat the wild Pokemon; this one didn't seem all that oblivious, and would probably immediately recognise any foul play. He tapped away at the keyboard, registering the room as occupied in the system. Just as the ticket was finished printing and he had sorted out the change, everything, including ticket, money, and wallet, levitated into the air. He turned back and looked towards the ground, where he saw the change sort itself into the wallet, and the pass and the wallet go into the Espeon's mouth. "_'Thanks," _was the thought that resonated in the man's head as the Pokemon ran out onto the pier in a purple blur.

* * *

**Notes:**

The next chapter, Chapter 7, was incomplete. As some of you may remember, I was working on the original Perfect World fanfic with a partner. My own portion of the chapter was completed before my partner decided to cancel the story without contacting me beforehand. Therefore, only around half of the chapter is complete.

If I receive a review to this particular chapter, or a PM, within 24 hours of its posting (along the lines of "I would like you to continue this story."), I will **officially** resume working on the story. This means that I will contribute time specifically to writing Perfect World, resulting in new chapters every one or two weeks (depending on my schedule). Moreover, I will actively reply to reviews and PMs.

However, it has definitely been a long time since I have last updated. As much as I would enjoy to continue this story, I would rather not writing something that will not be read; I do not wish to update when no one actually intends to read them. Therefore, if this story is **now forgotten** (i.e. I have lost all previous readers and do not acquire the attention of new readers), I will accept that this project belongs in the past. I have other tasks to spend my time on and several responsibilities to meet.

Basically, if there is indication that my story is still being read, I will continue working on the next chapter _**almost**_** immediately**. However, if this does not occur within 24 hours, which I believe is a reasonable amount of time (people may disagree with me, but I thought about this number carefully and thus will not change my mind), I will leave the story to rest. If many reviews appear after the testing period, I will possibly consider reviving the story, but it would not remain as particularly high priority anymore.

Thank you for this opportunity. I will respect and acknowledge whatever conclusion is decided.


	8. Bernard

Hi everyone. Thank you so much for all of the reviews. I'm so glad to see that this story hasn't been totally forgotten.

I know that I said that I'd be able to write a chapter once every one or two weeks, but I will not be available to work on this story at all during this coming week. Thus, I decided to finish Chapter 7 to tide everyone over. This is actually my longest chapter yet; there are enough words for me to split it into two short chapters, but I wanted to keep related events tied together. There are four major scenes, with the last of them introducing the next chapter. (Tell me if you notice any typos so that I may correct them later.)

Actually, by the end of this chapter, the six most important protagonist-style characters have all appeared at least once in this story. They are definitely not the only "main characters" to appear, but they are the initial ones who are introduced at the start of any Pokemon journey. (There are still some future characters who will become equally important to the plot, but everyone will have to wait a while for them.)

**I'd greatly appreciate it if people could also respond to this particular concern in their reviews.** Currently, I am (in my own opinion) describing single scenes in extreme depth. The story's plot hasn't officially started yet; this is still an introductory period in which I am setting the stage for the initial characters. However, if I continue at this rate with every single scene, the story will progress extremely slowly, even after the travelling group forms. Would it offend people if I spend less time on scenes that don't convey specifically intensive development, or perhaps omit travelling scenes between the more relevant plot-oriented ones? Of course, there will still be incredibly extensive chapters; I am only referring to the breaks between them. This switch won't happen until several chapters later, but I'd like to hear some feedback in advance.

I have also added some more information to my profile. One of them is a (new) explanation regarding the use of vulgar language in this story. The other is a Submission Form for secondary characters. Feel free to look at either if they might be of interest.

There's also an old poll on my profile. Feel free to input your responses, as the topic is still up for consideration. I will likely replace it with a new one in the not-so-distant future.

Anyways, I hope that you enjoy the story. Due to my circumstances this week, review replies may arrive later than usual.

* * *

**Chapter 7: "Bernard"**

"**Caitlin's" POV**

_I have a __**fucking**__ horrible headache_.

…

I guess that I should explain. It was all because of _**him**_. This was the night when we first met… That single encounter **instantly** ruined my already stressful day.

When we finally boarded the cruise ship, Rick carried me to our room. Although it wasn't really clear to me at the time, I happened to notice that his steps were becoming slightly uneven, almost as if he was limping… but he wasn't. After collecting the key, addressed to "Ms. Caitlin, and some other information pamphlets, he put me down on the bed and lay back himself. The sheets weren't in particularly bad condition, though they weren't all ornate and fancy either. The stench also wasn't strong enough to make me want to puke. However, the primary colour in the design was brown. It reminded me of shit. It also reminded me of my own fur colour, which could also be called shit. My "fucky-wuzzy" body was shit, my fucking joke of a life was shit, my fucking adorable cuteness shit, my entire potential fucking future was shit, and I could have kept going on and on and on and on, but I didn't. There was something else to think about that wasn't necessarily more important than my shitty condition, but it was enough for me to pause and consider.

Rick carefully pulled off his aged, falling-apart pass-me-down-then-resell-and-repeat sneakers. His white socks were grey and red on the bottom. Yeah, there were tiny splotches of blood on them. I winced when he winced while gradually rolling up the deteriorating socks. His feet were wrapped with medical bandages, but there were red patches in a few specific places. _He must've cut his feet on the wooden dock or the rough pavement or something… It must've been from the night that I died. _

I instinctively began to whimper and tear up. I wasn't hungry either.

Rick turned his head and realised that I had noticed his feet. He gently rested his heavy palm on my pathetic head in an extremely compassionate manner.

"It's okay," he whispered, "don't worry about it." His voice was starting to crack and shatter under the weight of it all. "It's not a big deal. It's just a few scratches… that'll heal… but…"

His breathing was deepening; his eyes were watering.

"But… Yeah…" he mumbled, barely audible even to my ridiculously huge ears, "She's gone…. My bloody feet can't compare… to the fact that I can never bring her back…"

I buried my face into the sheets and screamed. I didn't fucking care how retarded my fucking squeaks sounded; I just couldn't _**stand**_ it anymore! It was so fucking absurd! It was fucking unbelievable that I had to listen to this fucking shit when I was really _**right next to him**_!

My rage and frustration quickly transformed into despair, and I wept as if somebody important had died and **didn't** come back to life.

I felt tense hands pick me up and force me against a warm, pulsing chest.

"I-It's o-okay… pl-please d-d-don't cry. It-It'll all b-be al-alright." His voice was muffled by the torrential downpour above my head.

I stopped. I struggled to climb up his body far as I could, and then I licked him right across his pathetic face. What I did then was totally unexpected. It tasted salty. **Extremely** salty. It made me want to puke, but I didn't.

However, it luckily made Rick stop. He gazed at me for a while before torturing me to a ridiculously tight hug. It caused an oddly joyous feeling to swell up inside of me, but it kinda disappeared immediately.

"Thanks so much little guy," he whispered into my ear, "I really don't know what I'd do without you."

He reminded me that I was still male. I guess that I kinda forgot, which made me more depressed.

Rick reached to grab an information brochure to check for mealtimes. The fact that the letters printed on the paper looked like gibberish to me made me feel even worse.

I was also depressed because what I ended up doing during that critical moment was the least human thing that I could've done.

"**Caitlin's" POV**

This ship wasn't the S.S. Anne. Although it was clearly maintained and obviously not a total dump, it didn't compare to what is regarded as one of the most well-known and highly revered ships in the world. Of course, I didn't actually **expect** it to ever compare. It would be like complaining that a Pidgey doesn't fly as fast as a Pidgeot, or something.

_**Someone**_ didn't get the message.

The S.S. Elincia was still a cruise ship; it had all of the standard facilities. However, it was still smaller. Rooms weren't quite as spacious, hallways and corridors weren't quite as wide, the interior impression and exterior presentation weren't quite as impressive, but it was still a decent boat. The ticket that I bought was for a pretty much all-inclusive cruise. Meals were free, and luckily the cooking supplies were to be picked upon initial arrival. I was quite glad that our food wasn't suck on the S.S. Anne, wherever it was.

After we both calmed down a bit, Rick let go of me so that he could rest. I think that I fell asleep, because the next thing I remember is him wrapping his feet up with fresh bandages, probably from the hospital. I didn't try to watch. I honestly didn't want to see how bad the cuts were; after all, I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it anyways. Rick and I locked up our room and soon reached the decently large dining hall. Dinner apparently started a while before, so pretty much no one was there when we arrived. The meals were all buffet-style, and there were many nice tables stationed around the room. The air smelled delicious to me; I wanted to bite into it. Too bad that I didn't have teeth, not that it would've actually helped me eat the invisible stuff around me.

Rick approached one of the servers and asked if they had anything I would be able to "eat". Luckily, since this cruise was geared towards beginner trainers, they had supplies for baby Pokemon. In fact, the nice lady gave us a plastic bag filled with "food" and "other goodies".

I was hungry, but Rick hadn't eaten anything except the bread in the morning. I resisted whimpering for food. However, he actually fed me first. He pulled out a chair and placed the bag on the ground before preparing some kind of formula for me to take. I'll never admit that it tasted _good_, but it wasn't absolutely disgusting. When I had enough, I stopped drinking and tried to smile at him. I don't really know how stupid it looked, but I think that Rick got the message.

"I'll be right back," he explained, "so don't do anything bad, okay?"

I nodded at him and he put me back on the table. I watched as he walked over to the buffet area and started putting together a meal. However, _**he**_ entered from the two swinging doors. This guy had smooth, obviously styled hair. It was some colour similar to a pale brown or dark blond. He was wearing a long, white coat that definitely did **not** look like it was designed for travel. It reminded me of something that somebody would wear while travelling to an exclusive, invitation-only party. The formal pants that he was wearing were probably ironed recently. His shoes looked a bit more suitable for an extended journey, but they seemed practically brand new. His overdressed, flamboyant, totally excessive wardrobe was definitely expensive.

It disgusted me.

Rick returned with a plain white plate of roast beef and potatoes. He started eating, and he seemed quite satisfied with his meal. Even though the food was prepared for a large group, it looked like it was even higher quality than what we both used to normally eat each day. It smelled pretty nice as well. It was then that _**he**_ had to come over.

I got a closer look at his outfit. The jacket had black and gold lines around the edges; it also had a definite collar. There were several pockets along the front and the sides, and all of the buttons on the coat were engraved with some kind of special emblem. He was wearing a pale blue dress shirt underneath, the type that would be worn with a tie. His eyes were a dark green, and his mouth was so mild that it almost seemed feminine. He looked to be the same age as Rick.

He cleared his throat to get Rick's attention. "Excuse me," he asked in his self-important voice, "but we seem to be the only ones dining here tonight. Would it be fine for me to join you?"

Rick stared him over. Everything that Rick was wearing right now probably wasn't even worth half the price of a single piece from that ridiculous outfit. "Yeah, I guess…" I could tell that he wasn't too comfortable with the idea, but what could I have done? I guess that I could've screamed "NO, GET THE FUCK OUT," but that would've sounded ever so slightly like "Vee Eevee Vee!"

He put a similar plate of food down on the table so carefully that it seemed intentionally exaggerated. The way that he sat down in his chair felt showy as well. Basically, everything that he did appeared to be extremely artificial. I couldn't stand it. It was like he kept a cloud of snobbish tension hovering around him.

"Is it just me," the idiot began, "or does it seem as if this ship's a bit… below par?"

Rick stopped eating. "Huh?" I would've said, "Yes, it's just you. Now shut the fuck up."

He cut a tiny piece of potato from his meal and quickly ate it before replying. I think he did that on purpose. "Well, I personally don't feel that this vessel has quite the same atmosphere as the S.S. Anne."

_No shit, Sherlock._ "This is a smaller ship," Rick politely replied, "so I wouldn't expect too much."

"We paid for the S.S. Anne, though. Why should we put up with this abuse?"

_Abuse! If you're that fucking unsatisfied with this all-inclusive cruise, you could easily jump off the fucking boat! That would put __**all **__of us out of our misery! _Rick paused for a while. "Well, I don't know. I'm pretty fine with what we have right now."

The other guy was eating again. "Pfft, this ship doesn't even have a proper arena equipped. _I_ will be participating in the on-cruise tournament, so of course…" He stopped and began staring at me. There was a mix of resentment, admiration, and bewilderment in his eyes.

He turned back to Rick. "That's your Eevee, yes?" he inquired, "You're not entering the tournament, are you?"

"Yeah, I guess I am. Why?"

Shit, I forgot about the tournament. I guess that I would've participated with my Eevee… but the roles are kinda switched now. It never really occurred to me that I'd have to fight…

"Why… why… You're not participating with _this_ pitiful infant, are you?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I yelled in defence.

He stared at me again, slightly startled by my adorable outburst. This guy was really getting on my fucking nerve.

"Yeah, I am. Do you have a problem with that?"

He changed his attention back to Rick. "Yes, no, I mean, yes, I have a problem with _you_, actually. Your Pokemon's but a mere newborn. There's no way it'll survive in real combat."

"Thanks for your concern," Rick replied with a minor edge, "but I believe in my partner. I believe he'll be ready."

He glared at us. "You're being absurdly unrealistic," he countered, "You're placing heavy expectations on an infant Pokemon. You can't honestly expect it to fight."

"I appreciate your concern, but this really isn't any of your business."

The idiot rose to his feet. "Why, I beg to differ. I must apologise, but _honestly_, you should _learn_ to take _advice_." He walked over to our side of the table and opened out an arm, as if he was presenting us as subjects of discussion. "_Look_ at yourself! Your garments are but mere rags, and what is that bag of _garbage_ by your feet? How could you even _consider_ giving this stuff to such a top-class bred Eevee? It's _disgraceful_ to accept those complementary goods. A trainer must be able to take care of his team's needs through his own means and expenses."

_Top… Class?..._

Rick stood up as well. "You know what?" he began, his voice fluctuating a bit with annoyance, "I don't know what background you're from, but money is hard to come by for us. I'll take any help that I can get. Oh, and weren't you just complaining about not getting your money's worth with this ship? Why are you telling us off for making full use of this opportunity?"

I thought that was a major hole in his logic, but the idiot didn't seem wavered by it at all; he definitely thought he was right. "They are _completely_ different things. This isn't about seizing _opportunity_; it's about your Eevee! I cannot _believe_ that you're actually giving _garbage_ to a such high quality Pokemon. It's an absolute waste of potential! If you'll accept at least a tad bit of assistance, then please listen to my advice: _don't_ embark on a journey that you clearly _can't_ afford."

I saw Rick's fist clench up. I knew that he wouldn't cry; I don't think that he would after everything that happened today. However, I was afraid that he was going to actually punch the guy. "I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself. My financial situation isn't your business to deal with. Also, please don't refer to my Pokemon like it's a collector's object. He's my partner."

"Then let's do this properly, shall we?" The guy performed some kind of exaggerated greeting gesture. "My name is Bernard. May I ask for your _partner's_ name?"

I looked up at Rick. He didn't have anything to say. I didn't either.

"My point," Bernard taunted, "has been made. Do watch yourself; the advice that I have given you is more than suffice."

He bowed and then began to leave. "If this is your conviction, prove me wrong at tomorrow's tournament, because, as things currently stand, I will definitely win." He waved as he exited the empty dining hall.

"**Caitlin's" POV**

After Rick finished his meal in silence, we returned to the room. He dropped the complimentary supplies bag on the carpet and put me on the bed. He sat down and slouched over. It was a moment of awkward tension.

I decided not to break the silence; Rick interrupted instead. "I'm sorry little guy… Jeez, I really don't know what I was doing back there…"

I wanted to say something, but I didn't feel that it would've come out as I intended.

"There's a competition tomorrow," he unnecessarily explained, "which means that you would have to fight other Pokemon… I said that you were going to battle, but I'm not too sure anymore. I mean, wow, you're only a couple of days old." He laughed uncomfortably, as if he was trying to think his way through his illogic. It made me wonder if I would've done the same thing… If I was the trainer instead, would I have expected my baby Eevee to fight? Well, I personally couldn't even walk yet.

"I don't know where to start," he said, "It's just that so much has happened that I guess that I haven't really been dealing with things properly. I'm really sorry about that." He put his face in his palms for a bit.

"That guy, Bernard, he really got on my nerves back there, but he had a point."

Rick picked me up and hugged me loosely. "You don't even have a name yet."

The sad thing was that I did… and now I was going to be named again. It made me feel depressed, but it was just as inevitable as me having to fight at some point. I should've been furious about it all, but it was like all my thoughts and emotions were dampened; I think that I was beginning to accept my shitty life.

"Do you want to battle tomorrow? Will you be okay fighting other Pokemon tomorrow?"

The tournament had a cash prize. Rick didn't mention it to me, but I remembered reading about it. It wasn't an extremely large sum, but I doubted that we had much cash. The amount that we would receive from winning in the finals would pay off our expenses for quite a while.

I decided. "Vee!"

He sounded a bit surprised. "Is that a yes? Are you sure?"

"Vee!"

He laughed. He was happily in pain. "I'm sorry," he apologised again, "you remind me someone I used to know." I looked up at his face. His eyes were closed, but the skin around them looked a bit wet. He was smiling, and it wasn't exactly from pure joy.

"Would it be okay for me to name you 'Keith'?"

Eventually, Rick turned off the lights and went to bed. Once I was sure that he was asleep, I jumped down from the mattress, luckily not hurting myself in the process. I forced myself to my four feet and took a deep breath.

I had decided that I would be prepared for tomorrow's tournament. I had decided that, in a single night, I would learn how to walk.

**Unknown POV **

I woke up quite late the next morning, but I guess that it was justifiable. After all, I was extremely exhausted from travelling to Vermillion, and the mattress was far more comfortable than sleeping on the stale grass or in some thorny bush. I do admit, however, that the bed sheets felt unfamiliar against my fur.

I released an extended yawn and shook my head back and forth, trying to wake myself up. My tail felt so heavy, lying limply behind me. I attempted balancing on my hind legs so that I could rub my eyes, but it was still astoundingly taxing. I let out another yawn as I stared around the enormous, shadowed room. My heart thumped each time I sensed movement from outside the room; larger masses were moving simultaneously towards one direction. _Was something happening?_

My stomach felt a bit tight; I hadn't been eating that much, and I knew that it would not be a simple task for a Pokemon to just approach a chef and ask for a complimentary meal. _I guess that I should've considered the challenges surrounding the acquisition of food before deciding to board the ship. There probably isn't anything to hunt on the ship either… I'll probably need to steal some rations later on. _

However, I was in such a frantic rush that, if I didn't accept the risks, my best opportunity to escape would've vanished… and then it all would have ended for me.

I eventually jumped off the bed, onto the accustomed, alien carpet. That, too, brushed awkwardly against my fur.

_I guess that'll take some getting used to. _

This cruise ship was certainly smooth, but I could still sense slight rocking and subtle vibrations from the engine room, even though the carpet absorbed most of it anyways.

It then dawned to me that I had no idea where the ship was heading. I was in such a hysterical panic that I didn't bother to check.

Focussing on the switch, I was able to activate the overhead lights using my psychic powers. The room flickered a couple of times before illuminating my situation. I shook back and forth, trying to shake off the pathetic drowsiness.

I heard something loud. It was like a human voice, but it was muffled. _There must be something important happening outside. _

I rested myself by the door and waited. When I sensed that there was no one moving through the hallway, I swiftly opened the door and sprinted out. I left the wallet in the room, along with the keys; I assumed that I could just unlock the door with my mind when necessary.

I shot down the corridor, careful to limit my sound production, following the bursts of noise. It initially appeared to be electronically-based, but it definitely sounded like a human voice. I reached the door to the deck, and I confirmed that the source was located outside. I burst open the door and was paralysed as crippling wind blew through my fur, almost throwing me back against the wall. Once I eliminated the disorientation, I leapt outside, and noticed that everyone was crowded around what was probably the main deck. I heard the noise again, though this time it was a comprehendible voice. A human was speaking it; it sounded electronic because he was using a speaker system to project his voice.

"BEGIN!"

I heard a cacophony of congruous cheering, distorted by what felt to me like a tropical storm. I looked up towards the blazing sky; the sun was brightly glaring today.

I marched down the landings, paying attention to my speed and the friction that was maintained as to not slip off the ship, and peeked around the corner. There was a Bellsprout and a Mankey, and it appeared as if they were battling on a floor-marked arena. There were two young boys on either side of the battlefield, and there were people standing around the railings, yelling and screaming as if lives were at stake. I then realised that most of the noise was originating from above, so I looked up, though it was incredibly difficult to see properly, and noticed that there was a huge crowd watching from the upper deck. At that point, I wasn't so sure what to do. The safest choice hypothetically would have been to head back to the room. I was famished, and I could've invaded some unfortunate passenger's room to steal something that I would immediately consume, as well as additional money. I knew that it also might have been practical to slip out the content of an unsuspecting person's pocket here while the crowed was distracted, but…

Something… It was something else. Some sensation was clicking inside of me. Some unknown variable obtained a strong grasp over my behaviour, my thoughts, and my whole being. I had no idea what it was, but I was instantaneously captivated, not by the loud crowd, but by the excitement, the sensations of others, and, I assume, the battle.

I should have been terrified. The thought should have frightened me to the point that I could have run back to the room at a speed ten times greater than when I had originally left. However… Ah, I simply don't know anymore. I had virtually no battle experience, and thus perhaps I wished to learn something. It was as if I was being controlled by an external force… Or perhaps it was my centripetal sub-consciousness explaining that I should not waste energy evading the inevitable.

There were some stacks of boxes and safety equipment, in addition to some ledges, right below the upper deck. I instinctively ran up the pile, ignoring the vast risk of injury and the obvious chance of being noticed. I didn't sincerely realise what I had really done until I was already up there, gazing down at the field. There was a twinge in my chest, a needle piercing my mind. I later rationalised that it was actually an incredibly effective idea. Not only did I have a superb view, but I was at a high enough elevation that those on the lower deck could not see me due to the glare from the sun and the albedo of the white ship. Those on the upper deck couldn't see me either, unless they were leaning over an unrealistic distance and honestly tried looking for a hidden Espeon amongst the loads of emergency evacuation equipment.

I let out a sigh of relief, thanked the universe for my safety, and prayed that it would continue rather than crumble beneath me.

When I reflect back on this single event, I wonder about the choice, the decision, the key to it all. I would never have realised at the time what this would eventually lead to. Perhaps it was fate, or an unexplainable, unrecognisable force, or maybe it was all just a mere coincidence. Regardless of the infinite immaterial theories, paths crossed. It was all there at the time, I just didn't notice it.

I didn't notice the scratching of paper against paper, the trails of a writer's ink.

I didn't notice the steady hand, the high frequency clicks and consistent recoveries, the aiming and firing.

I didn't notice the boundless patience and attention.

I didn't notice the pair awaiting the test, nor did I hear the close yet distant hearts, the sorrows and grief, the anxieties of judgement.

I didn't notice, I didn't sense, the glorious, unrestrained beginning or the invisible, unfathomable end.

It was a beginning of a middle, a point on a plot; it was like a Dawn of Midday.


	9. The Dawn of Midday

I don't like excuses, so I won't give any. Those who have concerns regarding my absence may inquire for more information. I'm not well right now, so I struggled through this chapter. Moreover, I'm out of practice, so I hope that my writing is still somewhat sufficient. I can't make any promises at this point, but I want my updates to be more regular in the future.

Also, tell me if you're getting a bit tired of the emotional moments with Keith and Rick. After the tournament, there'll be several more characters to develop on, but I don't want to fix something that wasn't actually broken. However, it's certainly possible to be tired of the same exhaustive discussions.

As always, I appreciate constructive feedback. Considering how I'm out of practice, I'll certainly accept the advice.

Please alert me of any mistakes. The chapter I'm posting right now is actually a draft; I feel guilty about the long delay, but I won't be available to proofread until sometime tomorrow.

* * *

**Chapter 8: The Dawn of Midday **

**Keith's POV **

I wasn't that good at keeping track of time back then. It felt like I was practising the whole night, but it was probably only a few hours. The room was pitch-black; there weren't any windows connected to the outside. However, it wasn't that much of a problem for me; I guess Pokemon could actually see a bit in the dark.

I must've fallen on my face at least five hundred fucking times. At the beginning, I could barely manage to take a step without collapsing. The carpet didn't smell _that_ bad, but that didn't mean that I wanted to rub my fucking nose against it.

I didn't want to stop. I kept going and I guess something clicked after a while. After a long while, I was able to take a couple of steps at a time, and then I could walk short distances. I barely fell at all, and soon I was able to walk around the entire room. That was when I decided to try running. _How hard could it be__?_

As soon as I tried picking up a bit of speed, I drove my head into the fucking wall. I was fucking pissed that the room was so tiny, even in comparison to me. I decided to walk along the sides of the room to figure out how long each of the walls was, and then I tried again. By the end of the night I was running around the laps of the room, turning corners just before brushing against the wall.

_I am fucking awesome!_

I kept going for as long as I could… I think that I passed out from exhaustion. I woke up the next morning with Rick leaning over my body.

"Keith!" he yelled with a bit of worry, "Are you okay?"

I had forgotten that was my new name.

"_I'm fine_," I replied, but I knew that it wouldn't sound anything like it.

He scooped me up and fed me some more baby food. I think that I reacted squealed or something when Rick started to take the bottle away; I was still hungry. Rick quickly moved it back and I kept drinking until I was full. He put me down on his lap; he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

"Keith," he said with concern. I turned my attention up to his face; he seemed a bit distressed. "Have I not been feeding you enough? You had twice as much food as yesterday."

I didn't realise that I actually had that much, and I don't think that Rick was exaggerating either. I guess that last night's training worked the hell out of me.

I decided to just show him. I jumped out of his lap and started to run around the room in the same pattern as before. After one round, I looked up and saw that he was absolutely shocked.

We were going to fucking win!

**Keith's POV **

Rick and I left the room and walked out to the main deck, where the tournament was going to be held. The S.S. Anne had a proper arena, but this ship obviously didn't. _UGH, BAD THOUGHTS!..._ Instead, the people running this ship marked an area out on the floor with specific boundaries and all that shit. Rick went up to the registration desk and confirmed my participation in the tournament. Apparently, there were only eight people participating; I'd only have to fight three battles to win. They also weren't going to be extremely tough opponents; only low level Pokemon could participate.

Rick was still carrying me out of protective habit, and also to help me conserve my energy before I waste it all. As the ocean breeze blew across the deck, a chill ran down my spine (and unfortunately through my tail); I then realised that I was actually extremely nervous.

I didn't really understand because it didn't make sense. My opponents were all going to be really weak, and I trained through the night just so that I could move around the battlefield without getting my fucking head torn off or something.

I guess that there were a few decent reasons things. It was going to be my first fight, and I never exactly expected to battle from this perspective throughout my journey. Also, I didn't want to disappoint Rick… I knew that he obviously wouldn't be angry at me if I lost. He'd probably be fucking devastated if I got hurt. However, there was a cash prize. I didn't know how much it was. Rick wouldn't tell me because fucking Pokemon don't fucking understand how money even works. Also, they can't fuckng read anything. The money we'd receive for winning would be like a lottery to us, some kind of miracle. I've never won a contest like this before, and I know for sure that Rick certainly hasn't.

There was also Bernard.

_Ha…_

_Ha…_

_HAHAHAHAHA…._

_Oh, wow… I crack myself up… _

Bernard the Retard.

Anyways, I'd probably have to battle that fucktard's Pokemon at some point. I wanted to claw at his neck and gouge into his throat and rip it apart and feel the blood of victory ooze onto the floor, but there were many problems with that. I didn't have claws. I didn't have teeth. I'm microscopic. As much as I wanted to kill him, his Pokemon are probably strong somehow, and they'll probably kill me instead…

…

I started shaking. I felt my skin tingle as my fur tensed up. _Am I scared of danger?... Am I scared of dying again?..._

I felt my face get wet with tears of frustration. I didn't understand it. I knew that I couldn't think like this. There was no way any Pokemon could fight properly while being scared of death. However, thoughts of Rick kept popping in my mind. If anything happened to me, if I _died_ again, it would be the end of both of us. I didn't know which was worse: the thought of losing my second life, the thought of losing Rick again, or the thought of abandoning him.

It was arguably the pressure of the battle, but my anxieties were realistic… Leaving behind those concerns would be fucking ignorant.

_WHY THE FUCK WAS I FUCKING REBORN!..._

I started crying harder and harder. I was absolutely panicking… I thought that I had lost my mind. My eyes were shut, but the fucking Sun was so fucking bright that it was drilling into my fucking face. Rick noticed my tantrum, and I instantly noticed the absence of light intensity as he moved away from the crowd to some random shaded area.

"Keith," Rick called to me, "what's wrong? Please calm down."

I could sense the panic in his voice as well, but hearing my new name reminded me of the situation all over again, only making me react even more. His arms kept a firm grip on me, but I was flailing my legs around and swinging my fucking tail around like a fucking psychotic. I banged my head into his chest over and over, trying to make him let me go. I wanted to run away, I wanted to get away from him. Despite all that happened, I wanted to him to disappear.

I felt a whish and a thud as Rick rested his back against the wall and slid to the ground. He was leaning over my body, crying as well, letting his tears mingle with mine. We probably looked fucking pathetic again, but I honestly couldn't stop.

I thought that we were crying for hours.

"Excuse me?" It was a woman's voice. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding, but it seems like you're in a lot of pain right now."

I felt Rick stand up again, but tears were still flowing from my eyes. I wanted to take a look at the person, but my vision was totally blurry.

His breathing was still heavy. "Y-yeah, I'm sor-ry. I-I didn't want-t anyone t-to see me right now."

"Oh, I didn't mean to bug you or anything… I'd offer you a tissue, but I don't have -"

"No, no. P-Please don't w-worry about it."

"Is your Eevee alright?"

She definitely meant me… I just wanted to state the obvious.

"I-I don't know… I think my own problems are af-fecting him. My friend d-died a c-couple of days ago."

"…I'm so sorry."

There was a long period of silence.

"I didn't know your friend," began the woman, "so I probably shouldn't be saying this, but your Eevee seems young, so you should take every opportunity to make the most of your time together. Don't let the past hinder you. I know that it's a bit hard and obviously difficult, but if you're able to do it you'll both feel a lot better."

Rick was hugging me tighter.

"Thank you," he quietly replied.

"No problem. My Smeargle and I will be watching the tournament. Maybe we'll see each other around before the cruise ends."

_I can't forget the past, I can't discard my own problems, but I need to move on. I'm going to win for both of us. _

**Keith's POV: **

We were in the first match.

I was standing next to Rick on one side of the battlefield. On the other wide was a young boy, probably eleven or twelve years old, with a yellow t-shirt, blue shorts, and messy brown hair.

There were speakers set up around the boat's main deck. "On one side of the field," began the announcer, "is Richard Hemington from Vermillion City!

The wind was refreshingly intense today. (The Sun was getting a bit annoying though.)

I saw the announcer wave his arm towards the other end of the field. "On the other side, we have Timmy Johnson from Cerulean City!"

He tossed out a Pokeball. "Go, Little Einstein!"

_What the fuck?..._

A Ratata emerged from a burst of red light. It was roughly my size, and didn't look all that menacing, but its front teeth were pretty large… I thought that it would be painful to be bitten by them.

When watching Pokemon battles on TV or out on the roads, you usually hear the Pokemon say something as they emerge. All of the humans would've heard something like "Ratata!" However, unless my internal Pokemon-voice-translation-device was broken, it actually said "HERP DERP!"

"The rules are as follows. Each trainer may use one low-level Pokemon. The first to become unconscious is eliminated from the competition, while the winner moves onto the next round.

Those teeth suddenly started looking threatening…

"BEGIN!"

"FUCK, IT'S RUNNING AT ME!"

"DERPDERPDERPDERPDERPDERPDERP!"

I dodged to the left and got ready to counter.

I then realised something… Rick and I never discussed attacks.

_Fuck it._ I ran into the Ratata as hard as I could. That was probably Tackle.

The Ratata rolled across the ship deck, but got up again and charged towards me at an unbelievable speed.

"Dodge it!" Rick ordered as I was getting pummelled.

I tried to maintain my balanced and plant my feet, causing me to merely skid across the floor. The attack hurt a fair amount, but it wasn't anything that I couldn't deal with. However, just as I recovered, I was hit again. _Fuck, it's using Quick Attack, and all I've got is a fucking Tackle!_

"Counter with Tackle!" _EASY FOR YOU TO SAY!_ The "Little Herp Derp" was fucking spamming its Quick Attack, so I couldn't get a single attack in!

"I know! Keith, use Sand Attack!"

"Einstein, keep using Quick Attack!"

"THERE'S NO FUCKING SAND ON A FUCKING SHIP!" I screamed as I was knocked to the ground again. I wasn't in any serious pain. If anything, I was getting fucking pissed. However, my legs were beginning to feel sore from so many hits.

I needed to think of some kind of strategy, but that wasn't an option. I didn't even have a fucking second to take a breath.

The problem: Eevees don't know any attacks, especially the baby ones.

I was becoming exhausted from this fight even though I barely got to do anything. My only move was Tackle, and it clearly wasn't going to work. _If only I had Quick Attack…_

I decided to try it. Just as my opponent was preparing to hit me again, I focussed all of my energy on pure speed, and I ran at the Ratata as fast as I could. Amazingly, it worked. The Ratata was finally knocked back, so we traded positions for a while. I somehow managed to learn Quick Attack during the battle, so I decided to use it.

"Derp!" it cried each time I hit it. "Derp! Derp! Derp!"

Beating up a such a derpy opponent was fucking fun.

"This is my revenge!" I screamed as I crushed him yet again, but this time, as it tried to get up, it collapsed to the ground.

"I DID IT!"

"Yes!" yelled Rick, clearly pleased that I won (without his help).

**Keith's POV: **

"Great job, Keith!" Richard was cuddling me, and I was equally excited. I was squirming about in his arms like the baby that I apparently was. The battle certainly wasn't what I expected it to be, and winning was absolutely wonderful.

_Perhaps a future like this wouldn't be so bad after all…_

Rick and I were waiting in a cabin set aside specifically to act as a waiting room for the competitors.

I then felt a tense shock from Rick's body.

"Oh…" he muttered under his breath. Someone entered the room. I spun around to see who it was, honestly hoping that it was the woman from before, but of course that wouldn't happen.

"Congratulations on your win," said Bernard.

"Thanks, I guess," Rick replied. _NO, DON'T FUCKING THANK HIM!_

"Perhaps we'll face each other in the finals, assuming that your conviction is sufficient." He wasn't trying to be threatening, but I still wanted to tear his head off.

"Wait," Rick said with some concern, "if you've just won your match, then does that mean –"

"No," interrupted Bernard, "I'm not your next opponent. I was in the third match, so we won't have our opportunity until at least the final match. Your next competitor's actually outside right now. Training."

_Training?..._

"Your estimations," began Bernard, "weren't all that incorrect. It could be said that a time interval proportional to one match has now passed, but your next opponent is certainly swift, while my battle ended in one attack."

My heart skipped a beat. _…Fuck._

"Was that supposed to be a warning, or a threat?" Rick cautiously asked.

"Well, definitely not a threat," replied Bernard in that overly condescending voice of his, "but perhaps a warning, or a recommendation, or some advice." He sat on a chair across from us. He was wearing the same clothes as before, yet they seemed as pristine as ever.

"I have some additional advice. Yes, your Eevee won, -"

"His name's Keith," interrupted Rick.

Bernard grinned. "Why, congratulations yet again!" He clapped a couple of times, but I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic. "As I was saying, Keith did indeed win, but you provided barely any orders. In fact, your directions probably caused more harm than good."

Rick flinched.

"It's important to guide a Pokemon in combat, especially a young one. Otherwise, you may lose control in the future. Don't rely on your Pokemon's own skill and potential. Also, I happened to notice that Keith simply _learned_ Quick Attack during the battle."

"So?..."

"Technically, at your Pokemon's level, it's not possible. If this was really the case, you should actually be disqualified for a level-limit violation. I believe that I mentioned Keith's breeding in our rendezvous last night. Bred Pokemon tend to know hereditary moves from birth. Of course, Quick Attack would be a certainly helpful example."

He paused, and then stood up again and bowed.

"Early mistakes hinder future progress. I hope to see you again."


End file.
